


Even Superman coordinates his primary colors (but your legs sure look nice in those tights)

by coalitiongirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/F, Seven Deadly Sins, Swan Queen Week Winter 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:38:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is <i>not</i> going to swoon. She’s the mayor of Storybrooke City and she’ll be damned if Superman Lite gets anything from her. But it’s a challenge not to swoon at least a little when she’s being flown bridal-style across her city, the woman’s arms– strong arms, has she mentioned that yet? Because <i>wow</i>– loose but firm around her. Regina is breathless and frustrated and breathless and the woman <i>knows</i> it. </p><p>She quirks a grin at Regina’s glare and says, “Madam Mayor, it’s been a long-standing fantasy of mine to sweep you off your feet.”</p><p>[Swan Queen Week: seven deadly sins as a superhero AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lust

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going for the full deck this Swan Queen Week! This will be seven chapters, one story posted each day (if I finish in time, but here's hoping~) to correspond to that day's theme.
> 
> This is mostly JS and Bailey's faults for ALL THE SUPERHERO TROPES and also Aimee's, because she coached me on writing a fluffy tropey fic ("But why can't the pain last longer?" I asked, perplexed. She said, "Mari. Control yourself." That is essentially exactly how it happened).

It begins with a crashing plane.

 

Most of these… _matters_...do, and Regina Mills hasn’t been mayor of Storybrooke City for four years to panic when her private plane tilts and speeds up in midair. The pilot’s voice rises and grows more strident, Sidney looks as though he’s about to have a heart attack, and Regina says, her voice low, “We do _not_ need one of those in my city.” 

 

But, of course, 95% of plane crashes are directly correlated with _them;_  and she sits back and glares out the window as something hits the plane and slows it, guiding it to a safe landing. They’re still at least a mile up when Regina sets her laptop down and stalks to the emergency exit. 

 

“Ma’am–“ She gives the pilot a quelling look and he stops.

 

She tears open the hatch, and shouts against air, “Your presence is not necessary in Storybrooke! We’re doing just fine–“ And she pitches forward unexpectedly, because _of fucking course_  there’s about to be a crisis every day in her city. 

 

She windmills through the air, tumbling downward at an alarming pace, and she fumes and screams for her life and fumes again until she’s swept up in strong arms. “You sure about that?” an amused voice asks. 

 

A _feminine_ voice. Regina had expected another broad-shouldered white male fantasy; but instead it’s a woman with tightly-wound blonde hair and a disgustingly charming smile. 

 

And she is _not_ going to swoon. She’s the mayor of Storybrooke City and she’ll be damned if Superman Lite gets anything from her. But it’s a challenge not to swoon at least a little when she’s being flown bridal-style across her city, the woman’s arms– strong arms, has she mentioned that yet? Because _wow_ – loose but firm around her. Regina is breathless and frustrated and breathless and the woman _knows_ it. 

 

She quirks a grin at Regina’s glare and says, “Madam Mayor, it’s been a long-standing fantasy of mine to sweep you off your feet.” 

 

The _nerve_. 

 

She can feel the hot flush– made of equal parts fury and… _more fury_ , and the woman’s grin grows wider. And Regina hones in on the only thing she can reply to that, which is, “Your costume is hideous. Even Superman coordinates his primary colors.” 

 

The woman looks affronted. “Well, I’m sorry. I’m an orphan. I didn’t come with a family to hand-sew my outfit. I got the mysterious-dude-talking-about-destiny-in-the-middle-of-the-night treatment before I became a superhero.” 

 

“Vigilante,” Regina corrects her. “That’s what you are. We don’t need one of those in our city.”

 

The woman scoffs. “The only difference between me and that idiot in the sheriff’s department is a lot fewer bearclaws. Not that I _like_ bearclaws,” she says hastily. “I like…saving people.”

 

“You’re going to cause us nothing but trouble!” Regina barks out. “I’m well aware of what goes on in other cities. Metropolis has a natural disaster once a week! Supervillains! Accidents! Where you people go, trouble follows.” 

 

“But then we _stop_ the trouble,” the woman counters, but she’s looking a little less sure of herself. There’s a set to her jaw like Henry gets when he’s expecting rejection, and Regina nearly softens. “You have the Evil Queen lurking somewhere in your city and you think _I’m_ the problem?” 

 

“The Evil Queen is hardly a threat,” Regina says irritably. “She’s stimulated the economy and taken care of some of the worst menaces we’ve had in the city. All those superheroes looking for a _scenic retirement city…_ ” She scoffs. “And if you’ve come here looking for a nemesis, you’re hardly equipped for her when you look like _this_.” 

 

The woman sets her down gingerly on the ground in front of City Hall, turning to smile triumphantly on the reporters Sidney had somehow managed to contact from a crashing plane. (Which is slowly descending now, she sees, because of course it had somehow righted itself after the superhero hadn’t been handy anymore.) When the woman turns back to Regina, though, she’s uncertain again. “I can’t leave. I’m supposed to be here.” 

 

Regina sighs heavily. She’d known this would happen eventually. The whole country is overrun by heroes staking out their turf. And this one is a sink-or-swim situation. Maybe it’s just those arms (they’re very, very nice, and at least the woman has had the foresight to wear latex so she can watch them flex with every movement) or the lost look in her eyes, but she wavers. “Come back tonight,” she says. “Outside my window, eight PM.” 

 

“Do you want to go for another ride?” the woman says hopefully, and Regina should _not_ tingle in response to that.

 

“No,” she says, resigning herself at last. “I’m going to take you to my seamstress.” 

 

* * *

 

She paces in her office for a good portion of the day before she gives in and calls Graham. “I want a deputy on duty here at all times,” she commands. “The city is about to experience an astronomical rise in crime and I refuse to be dependent on an untrained superbaby to fight my battles.” 

 

“Right.” She hears his grimace in his voice. “I heard about the Swan.” 

 

“The Swan?” 

 

“That’s what they’re calling her. You know, like the ugly duckling? That costume is…” He snickers. “Well, we’re no Gotham City, I guess.” 

 

“Enough,” Regina snaps, irritated again. “Not every superhero has the facilities to have a proper costume made. I won’t have my sheriff being snide about our superhero’s socioeconomic status.” Graham sputters and she says, “A deputy. You have five minutes.” 

 

Emma Swan makes it in four, which is the only thing about her that endears her to Regina. She’s out of uniform, her gun is tucked into the waistband of her pants, and her hair is down, curled and luxurious like she thinks she’s at a _Naughty Cops_ photoshoot instead of an actual officer of the law. “I’m undercover,” she offers.

 

“You’re a disgrace.” They’d attended Storybrooke University together over a decade ago. Regina had been in the prestigious honors program and Emma had been there on scholarship and they’d been roommates for one interminable year. They’d fought like cats and dogs for the good part of it, had reached a stalemate by March, and then Regina had gotten drunk and kissed Emma at the end of the semester. Regina had woken up curled around Emma’s body the next morning, nuzzled into her side and more content than she’d ever been before. She'd panicked and called Mother and been moved to a new room within the day. 

 

Emma had disappeared from school shortly after. She’d known vaguely that she had gotten involved with law enforcement, but they’ve barely seen each other since that night. Regina’s stomach still bottoms out when Emma swaggers into the room like she owns it. “Come on, Regina. I’m your perfect bodyguard.” 

 

“And why is that?” Regina snaps. “If you’re making some crude reference to–“ 

 

“My last name,” Emma says, white-faced. “Like…the superhero? Swan?” 

 

Regina’s cheeks flame. Emma stares determinedly at the floor. 

 

“You’ll begin tomorrow,” Regina orders her. “If you’re not in my office before I am in the morning, I’ll have you dismissed.” And manners are manners, so she strides forward and reaches for Emma’s hand. 

 

Emma has a good grip and a calloused palm but her thumb against Regina’s skin is soft. Regina’s heart twists traitorously. “I’ll see you bright and early,” Emma says, eyes glittering beneath those terrible fashion glasses she still wears.

 

“Bright and early,” Regina agrees, and closes the door behind Emma before she pinches her nose and wonders what she’s gotten herself into. 

 

Eight PM. Meeting with the Swan. That’s her focus right now.

 

* * *

 

The Swan is late. 

 

Sidney has brought Regina’s laptop back to her office and she’s instructed him to hold off on any official expose on the Swan yet. “Exclusive first rights to her new look,” she promises him. “I want it clear that she works for _me_ , not ‘the good of the people’ or some other Justice League nonsense. I didn’t date Diana Prince for six months to be cuckolded by another superhero.”

 

She passes the time by calling up Emma’s personnel file on the county sheriff’s page and studying her credentials. She’s the chief deputy, Graham’s second-in-command, and Regina’s surprised that she hasn’t met with her since she’d been elected mayor. 

 

Which means Emma’s been avoiding her. Her eyes narrow. Why has that ceased now? She scrolls down further. 

 

“That how mayors pass the time?” She twists around. The Swan is hovering in front of her window, cocky grin in place. “Spying on your underlings? I’ve always suspected.”

 

“I’m doing my job,” Regina says, shutting the laptop. “And now it’s time for you to get a move on yours.” 

 

Aurora is a skilled seamstress, and she takes one look at the Swan’s costume and says, “That won’t do.” 

 

The Swan sulks as Aurora takes her measurements and prattles on about the costume. “You need a qualifier. The Yellow Swan is…” She wrinkles her nose. “How about the Dark Swan? We give you a feathery cape and put you in black and you’re in business.” 

 

The Swan shrugs. “Whatever the mayor says. Not that I work for her,” she says hastily. “I’m an independent. I did vote for you both times, though.”

 

“So you’ve been here a while.” Regina examines the Swan– no, _Dark_ _Swan’s_ face. She wears a yellow mask over her eyes, pointed at the tips and green-blue shining through them, and her white-blonde hair is pulled back in a severe bun. She looks distantly familiar but alien at once, and Regina narrows her eyes. “I don’t know you, do I?”

 

Dark Swan looks offended. “You’re not supposed to ask that.” 

 

“I will do whatever I please, thank you very much.” 

 

“It’s rude! No one asks Maleficent about her day job! No one asks Superman who he is without the costume!” Dark Swan jerks a hand out and accidentally sends Aurora flying. “Sorry!” 

 

“You’re not the first Super I’ve worked with,” Aurora says airily, waving her hand as she rises. “I do the Evil Queen’s needlework, too. Accidents happen. You learn to deal with the occasional sleeping curse. Or electrical disaster. Or escaped monster from a nuclear waste facility.” Regina stands stiffly, deigning to roll her eyes at both of them.

 

Dark Swan says, “The Evil Queen?” and sounds a bit dazed about it.

 

“Your future nemesis, if you really want to be this city’s hero.” Aurora works patiently, smoothing out fabrics and measuring them against Dark Swan’s waist. “Think you can handle her? No one else has managed.” 

 

“Right.” Dark Swan bobs her head. “She’s just a witch, right? I can take a witch.” Her hands ball into fists. “I’m virtually indestructible. I can fly. Can she fly? Does she have a broomstick?”

 

Aurora puts up a hand, effectively stopping both Dark Swan and Regina just as they open their mouths. “She’ll introduce herself to you when the time comes, I suppose. You’ve got to be a real player to make it onto her radar.” She grins, eyes flickering to Regina for a moment. “And try to make that big showdown happen before Christmas, okay? I’m always strapped for funds around then.” 

 

She waves Regina off a few minutes later. “Confidentiality,” she says, nodding to Dark Swan’s mask. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready.” 

 

Regina grumbles but steps out. She has to call Henry, anyway. Zelena is supervising and that generally means that Henry is supervising, and _that_ generally means that they’ve eschewed homework in favor of making crank calls to Mary Margaret Blanchard. 

 

Today, they’re on online message boards spreading rumors about her opponent in the last election. “Not that he has  _cooties_ , Mom,” Henry says when she asks, sounding very condescending. “I’m ten years old. Cooties aren’t real.” Zelena’s voice is heard on the other end, and she can almost hear him screw up his nose as he sounds out the word. “We said he has cla–mi–di–ya.” 

 

“Lovely. Pass the phone to Z–“ She freezes. 

 

“Mom?” Henry says curiously. 

 

“I’ll call you back,” she says, clicking off the phone.

 

Dark Swan has emerged from Aurora’s attic, dressed in her new costume. It’s all black, tight and leather. Her mask is black as well, but there are white markings around the eyes as though she’s an inverted swan. She’s taller now, heels longer than anything even the Evil Queen has worn and the cape sleek and feathery as it settles around her. 

 

Regina stands. She finds that she’s suddenly without words. Has it been this warm in this room all along? Her heart is skipping beats and she’s gaping and it takes a long, long moment before she can collect herself–

 

–Before she can collect herself, Dark Swan is striding forward, circling around her so the cape whips dramatically. It’s shockingly smooth from her. “See something you like?” she says, waggling her eyebrows. And… _no_ , not smooth at all.

 

Still, Regina’s hands are trembling and her lips are still faintly parted. Her breathing is uneven, which means her chest is heaving and _that_ is just enough for Dark Swan to break eye contact and free Regina. “You’ll do,” she says, affecting disinterest. “I expect to be notified on all your actions. And the _Daily Mirror_ will have an interview tomorrow afternoon. Understood?”

 

“I thought we should talk a little tonight,” Dark Swan says, a bit of the confidence still there. “Get some drinks, work out my role here together.” She tilts her chin up challengingly, gazing down at Regina as though she isn’t intimidated.

 

Which is absurd. Regina _excels_ at intimidation. But there’s an ache in her belly that suggests she might be faltering tonight; and between Dark Swan tonight and Emma Swan tomorrow, she’s in over her head.

 

She draws herself together, exuding the power that has even the tallest men on her staff feel as though she’s looming over them. “I have more important things to do with my time than schmooze a novice Super,” she says. “I’m the mayor of this city. Come back to me when you’ve proven yourself worthy.” 

 

“I wouldn’t miss it!” Dark Swan calls after her, and Regina’s lips curl into an unbidden smile as she heads home to Henry.


	2. Gluttony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention just how much I may be stretching some of the prompts, oops. This one is fairly self-explanatory.

The worst part about being a superhero is the cape. She tucks it into her pants one day and gets a snide, “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just really this slovenly?” from Regina. She tries removing it and keeping it in her bag and nearly misses a man falling off a roof because _faster than a speeding bullet_ doesn’t help that much when you’re tangled in your own costume.

 

“I've never had an issue like this before,” Aurora had said when she’d begged for help. “The Evil Queen just…waves her hands and transforms.” She’d done a fair approximation of what Emma thinks the Evil Queen must look like, all sneers and melodrama and whirling magic.

 

Oh, _yes_ , and it doesn’t help that the Evil Queen is basically a city celebrity. A Storybrooke native, vicious against superheroes and no one else, and she’s driven up the number of children who eat an apple a day considerably. Half the city is opposed to Dark Swan on principle because the Evil Queen is so popular. Even Mayor Mills has a little limited-edition Evil Queen rubber duck on her desk. 

 

Emma squeezes it. It quacks. Regina says, “Really, Deputy?” without looking up. 

 

“You know they make Dark Swan ducks too, now? You could have them fight. See who comes out on top.” She waggles her eyebrows. She’d had a terrible crush on Regina back in college, which had mostly led to a lot of posturing and fighting and then finally, blessed kissing. And _that_ had led to Regina refusing to speak to her until she’d dropped out and Emma watching her ascension to mayor from afar, still wistful about the whole thing. 

 

And now they’re back in close quarters. Emma is her glorified bodyguard and Dark Swan is her city superhero and neither one seems to engage Regina all that much. “The Evil Queen would come out on top,” Regina says, snapping her laptop shut decisively. “When Dark Swan does something that _I_ couldn’t do with a well-organized committee, then we’ll talk.” 

 

“Regina, I doubt there’s anything you couldn’t do with a well-organized committee.” She earns a pleased smile that Regina can’t wipe off her face before Emma sees it. Emma beams, resting back against the wall in victory.

 

Her cape rides up against her back. Today she’d folded it upward and put velcro strips along the bottom, and it’s been bunching up suspiciously under her jacket. “I need the bathroom,” she blurts out, hurrying for the door.

 

“How much coffee did you _drink_ today?” Regina demands after her.

 

_Fucking_ cape. 

 

They’re out this afternoon on a field trip– an _actual_ field trip to the Storybrooke Museum of Natural History, where dozens of fifth-grade classes are going for a yearly trip and address from the mayor. Regina is surprisingly invested in this– or maybe it isn’t so surprising. Regina is invested in most things about her job. Emma should find it irritating, not endearing, and _yet_. There’s something about seeing the hardass mayor in the limo with a giant tyrannosaurus rex on her lap that has Emma warm and grinning.

 

“My son informs me that it’s an Allosaurus,” Regina corrects her, and Emma’s so startled that she drops her police scanner.

 

“You have a _kid_? Wait, I knew that,” she remembers a moment later. He’d been standing with her on some of the ads for her first campaign, a toothy-grinned preschooler with his hand in his mother’s. “Adopted, right?” One of Regina’s big platforms had been adoption and foster care. Emma had moved her from _Unfinished Business_ to _Hopeless Crush_ after that advocacy and stayed as far away from Regina as possible. “I remember the campaign ads.” 

 

Regina tilts the Allosaurus’s head downward as the car comes to a halt in front of the museum. “Did you vote for me?” 

 

“No,” Emma says, chewing on her lip as she lies. “I don’t vote for conservatives.” 

 

Regina looks genuinely offended. “I’m fiscally conservative and socially liberal. _Nuance_ , Deputy.”  

 

“Please. That’s an oxymoron,” Emma retorts. She’d voted for Regina anyway, because that whole college…situation had probably been her fault. She’d had a raging crush and Regina had still had those same eyes and Emma is pretty much hopeless. “You can’t be…” 

 

The scanner blares from the floor, an unfamiliar code from a frantic voice. “Wild animal loose in the SMNH! It’s eating everything in sight! It’s got the exhibits, the dinosaur bones–“ A pause and a sickening squelching sound. “The curator– Oh, jesus–“ 

 

Emma’s up and out of the car before she can make an excuse, hurtling toward the museum at a human pace as she keeps an eye out for a place to transform. There are distant sirens and shouts, and more of the squelching ahead. 

 

She unbuttons the top button of her shirt.

 

“What are you waiting for?” Regina demands from beside her, and she jumps. “We have to get in there!” 

 

“You’re not going in there!” Emma says, horrified. “We’re evacuating the building, not putting the mayor of this city in danger!” 

 

“Don’t be an idiot. My son is in that building!” Regina barks out, and she charges forward, yanking the doors to the museum open. “This is all Dark Swan’s fault,” she grits out. 

 

Emma feels obliged to say, “That isn’t fair. Dark Swan didn’t–“ 

 

“Emma! Is now really the time?” They’re standing in front of the midsection of a creature that looks a bit like an enormous centipede, its mouth wide open. It moves sluggishly on jointed legs, that sickening squelching noise coming from the way its body slides across the floor, and everything in its way is immediately devoured. “Fuck,” Regina swears, and shouts in a high-pitched tone. “Henry!”

 

The creature hears. Emma watches in horror as it turns, long, fat tail slamming into the wall in front of the Hall of North American Animals and taking the whole thing down. Plaster rains down on them. A taxidermied sheep is thrown through the air and bounces near them. “Regina, _run_ ,” she commands Regina; and for once, Regina actually listens to her.

 

“Henry!” she shouts again, bolting toward the side hallway. “Henry Daniel Mills!” There are children screaming somewhere nearby, caught in the devastation raining down on the exhibits, and Emma finally yanks her shirt off and fixes her hair, slipping into superhero costume. 

 

“Okay, Bugface, let’s do this.” She finds a spiny dinosaur bone on the floor and brandishes it, spinning it on her finger like a basketball. “Hey! Over here!” Several dozen feet skitter around again. Emma raises her fist and fires herself into the air.

 

As far as superpowers go, the flying is definitely the best part of the gig. Super-strength has been a challenge to control since childhood, super-speed is handy but unimpressive, but the flying has been her favorite since she’d been too young to realize that normal children didn’t soar away when their foster parents are trying to give them baths. 

 

She’d spent a good part of her childhood struggling to hide her powers and fit in, and only since she'd been called to superhero duty had she started flying again. Now she’s a pro, which comes in handy when enormous centipedes are rearing upward toward her with a black hole where their mouths should be. “Yeah, try and get me now!” she calls.

 

But she’d miscalculated. The creature snarls, a buzzing vibration that has the floor shaking, and then it charges for the wall and scurries up it. And it’s a _lot_ faster vertical. 

 

Emma throws her dinosaur bone like a javelin, embedding it in the back of the centipede’s giant mouth. The centipede swallows it and moves faster. _Fuck_. 

 

She hovers near the ceiling, calling taunts down to the creature. When it’s hurtling nearly beneath her, fetid breath staggering, she shoots out of the way, expecting the creature to smash against the ceiling and drop. 

 

Instead, of course, it eats the ceiling.

 

* * *

 

_Faster than a giant centipede_ might not be a Superman-worthy motto but it’s something unique, at least. Definitely not something Regina can achieve by committee. And she can zoom upstairs and help evacuate terrified ten-year-olds as the centipede chews through the floor, so…always a plus. 

 

“I can keep it up here,” she says to a pale teacher. “You need to get the kids out.” 

 

“The exhibits–“ They’re below the dome of the planetarium now, and the teacher gestures around wildly. “The kids,” she says, remembering herself. 

 

“The kids. _Now_.” They’re moving toward the stairs, ushered along by more proactive teachers, and Emma calls out instructions and hurries them away from the carnage around the Mars exhibit. “Everyone out! The downstairs should be clear. The mayor is here somewhere,” she says to a security guard. “Get the kids out first but keep your eye out for her.” 

 

The floor is beginning to cave in, sinking through the centipede’s determined gluttony, and Emma casts her eye around for something to stop it. There’s a model of Saturn a few feet away. _Too small_. A display rocket. _Too bulky_. A meteorite ten feet high in diameter with a boy standing against it, arms folded. _Too– what?_

 

She twists around. “Kid! What the hell are you doing here?” 

 

He doesn’t shrink back. “I’m helping. That’s a Centigula. They’re all over Ursula’s underwater kingdom. They can’t eat too much iron or they wither up.” He offers her a bright smile that shows no sign of strain. “I’m Henry Mills, by the way. I have your action figure.” 

 

Of _fucking_ course. “You’re supposed to be downstairs! What part of _evacuation_ did you miss?” 

 

“A hero never runs,” he admonishes her. “Why is your cape so short?”

 

_Dammit_. “I’ve been trying out a velcro…thing.” She tugs it free. The giant centipede bursts through the floor. Regina Mills bursts into the exhibit. 

 

“You,” she snarls, looking ready to kill. “You did this–“ 

 

“Mom!” Henry says gleefully, running to her, and Emma takes advantage of their distraction to yank the meteorite out of the ground and hurl it at the centipede. The centipede devours it without hesitation, gulping it into its black hole of a mouth. 

 

A moment later, it’s making an unearthly noise as it starts to shrivel up. Regina has her hands on her son’s ears. He’s clapping appreciatively. The centipede shrivels thinner and thinner until it’s just a hard, brittle legged thing the color of a dead leaf. “I knew you could do it!” Henry says.

 

Regina is bent over him, inspecting his face and ears and hands as though she thinks the centipede might have taken some fingers. Emma flashes him her most charming smile. “How about I take you both downstairs the fast way?” 

 

“Absolutely not,” Regina says coolly, putting a firm hand on Henry’s back and walking toward the stairs. 

 

Emma follows them down, affronted at the cold shoulder. “Hey! I saved the day, didn’t I?” 

 

“We didn’t have Centigulae ravaging our city before you,” Regina snaps. “And the amount of damage– the prices incurred–“ She sucks in a breath. “The lives lost– You’ve done more harm than good.” 

 

She walks through the wrecked front hall and out to the masses still milling around outside. There are emergency workers on hand now, and she gives them terse orders. “There was one casualty,” Emma tries when she hears the debriefing. “It could have been much worse–“ 

 

“Two,” Regina says darkly. “Two casualties.” 

 

Two? “I didn’t know you felt so fondly toward giant centipedes.” 

 

Regina turns away from her. Her arm is still tight around her son’s shoulder, but her back is ramrod-straight as though she’s uncomfortable even in her element. They’re both talking to reporters now, comforting children and adults alike, and Emma doesn’t think about what Regina had meant until she sees the toy Allosaur on the floor near the car. She picks it up, about to return it to the Millses, when she remembers that Dark Swan shouldn’t know about it.

 

Emma does. Emma who’d run into the museum with Regina and then disappeared.

 

There’s no way…

 

She changes back into her regular clothes before she saunters over to Regina, dinosaur tucked under her arm. “Look what I found,” she says, and Regina whips around and stares at her, wide-eyed. “The only dinosaur to survive that attack.” 

 

“My Allosaurus!” Henry seizes the toy. “Thanks, Officer!” 

 

“Deputy,” Regina corrects him, her eyes with a suspicious sort of misty gleam to them. “I thought you’d…” 

 

“Been eaten? Nah.” Emma quirks a smile. “I went toe-to-toe with the centipede until Dark Swan showed up, and then I figured I might as well get out of her way. She is faster than a speeding centipede, after all.” 

 

“That’s a terrible catchphrase,” Regina sniffs, blinking rapidly as she turns away from Emma. “Where did she go, anyway?”

 

“No idea, Mom,” Henry says. “Can the deputy take me to the car? I want to go home.” He pouts. It’s frighteningly adorable.

 

“Why don’t you stop along the way and say hi to your friends?” Regina says with a honeyed voice. “Ask them about their latest video games, go for a walk,” She smiles tightly. “Because you’re about to be grounded for the _rest of your life_.” 

 

“Mom!” But he walks to the car with Emma without complaint, ducking inside behind her. The driver is standing outside it, making conversation with a few of the teachers, and they’re alone when Henry says, “By the way, you’ve got feather-butt.” 

 

“What?” She reaches a hand around and feels the tip of her cape poking out of her shirt. “Uh. That’s my…pet bird,” she says, the panic flooding her. 

 

“Right.” Henry winks at her. She stares at him, chagrined. He says, “My friend Nick says that Superman uses superstrength to fold his cape _really_ flat and then puts it in his belt. You know, in case that was something you’ve ever thought about.” He winks again and clambers out of the car. “I’m going to go see if he knows what happened to everything the Centigula ate.” 

 

She waits for him to go before she yanks off the cape and starts at it again. 


	3. Greed

Henry keeps her secret. Henry winds up being her most invaluable resource, actually, between his encyclopedic knowledge of supervillains and that pout that manipulates his mother with more skill than his mother manipulates the press. “You two have gotten close,” Regina says, her scowl deepening every time she walks into her office and finds Henry and Emma with their heads bent together on a new plot.

 

“Emma’s super,” Henry says, the great innocence of childhood plastered across his guileless face. 

 

“Henry’s pretty super, too,” Emma offers, glowering at him. Regina shakes her head at both of them and moves on. 

 

It’s not that Regina is giving her the cold shoulder anymore. Not exactly. Regina runs hot and cold, just like she had back in college. They’d go from fighting to murmured admissions about their pasts– Regina’s mom, Emma’s orphanhood, the various shitty relationships and experiences they hadn’t quite shared but understood– and then back to fighting over whose turn it was to clean the fridge. (Somehow, it had always been Emma’s turn. Somehow, Regina would still wind up being the one to clean it.)

 

But there’s a familiarity to their relationship now. Regina’s hand glides over Emma’s shoulder when she’s sitting, almost absentminded. Emma puts a protective hand on the small of Regina’s back to guide her through a crowd and Regina doesn’t pull away. Sometimes Regina smiles at Emma in that heartstopping way and Emma fumbles her words, grins like an idiot, and makes a terrible comment that ruins the moment. Sometimes Emma says the right words and Regina’s eyes get soft and misty before she snaps out a cutting remark. 

 

“Deputy, I’ve long suspected that you were on the same emotional level as a ten-year-old, but I hadn’t thought it’d be quite this apparent,” she says, eyeing the enthusiastic way that Emma and Henry are pitting Dark Swan’s action figure against the Evil Queen’s.

 

“You always say I’m mature for my age,” Henry points out, smiling beatifically.

 

Emma puts on a voice, letting the Evil Queen rise higher on her perch on a pencil. “You can’t stop me, innocent superhero! I eat superheroes for breakfast! I may be a bitter old hag but at least _I_ can kick–“ She freezes under Regina’s blazing scowl. “…butt,” she finishes, flying her action figure closer to Henry’s.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Henry says, brow knit together. “I bet you didn’t expect my _laser eyes_!” He presses the button on the back of the Dark Swan figure and its eyes light up red. 

 

“Gah!” Emma bends her figure into a cower. 

 

Regina says, sounding impatient, “Just put up a shield against her. You have _magic_.” 

 

“Right, boss.” Emma spreads a hand between her figure and Henry’s. “Ha-ha! You can’t stop me now! I might be a fun-hating, nasty, miserable–“ 

 

“I’m turning on the news,” Regina says loudly, clicking the volume high enough to drown them out. Emma sighs and sets her figurine down, leaning back to watch the screen.

 

There’s a traffic report on, a bored announcer speaking from in front of an accident scene, and Emma watches Regina instead. Her lips are pursed and her eyes are that brown that flickers like molten gold in the light– not that Emma’s obsessing or anything. Nope. Regina is her boss and isn’t all that fond of either of her identities, and any sign of attraction might chase her away for another twelve years. 

 

Henry whispers, “You’re so _lame_ ,” and goes back to his warring action figures. Emma’s eyes drift back to Regina’s gaze–

 

–Which is now narrowed, eyes glaring at the screen with fury. The announcer says, “What?” caught off guard by something the cameraman must have said. “Behind me?” Emma turns to the screen.

 

And there she is in all her supervillain glory: the Evil Queen, rising from the fire of the accident to sneer at the camera. Emma gapes. Regina is a picture of shocked fury. “I thought you were a fan of hers,” Emma says, puzzled.

 

Henry says, “Mom, is it okay if Emma takes me downstairs to the sheriff’s office? Dark Swan and the Evil Queen have places to be.” He waves his action figures. Regina nods absently, glowering at the screen. 

 

Henry is ushering Emma toward the elevator in an instant. He hits the button for the ground floor, waits a beat, and then slams the stop button. “Okay, listen up,” he says without preamble. “That isn’t the Evil Queen.” 

 

“What?” 

 

He shakes his head, exasperated. “I have her action figure. I _know_ the Evil Queen. You have to go stop that fraud before the real Evil Queen shows up and gets mad.”

 

“Right.” And she takes Henry’s word for it because frankly, she’s flying blind over here. She knows about as much about superheroes as the average Iron Man fan– ( _You can’t talk about HIM here_ , Henry had said, aghast)– does. So if a ten-year-old tells her to go fight the Evil Queen’s doppelgänger, she’ll do her thing.

 

Emma Swan and Henry Mills enter the elevator. Dark Swan and Henry Mills exit it, and Dark Swan is across the city in a matter of seconds. 

 

The Evil Queen is still sneering at the camera– which makes at least three minutes of sustained staring while everyone cowers around her. Emma’s beginning to think that Henry might have had a point there. She’s seen the Evil Queen before– on the news and in that one commercial she’d done promoting the Girl Scouts last year. She’s always been the same: a smirk potent enough to turn Emma’s mouth dry; heavy, lidded makeup and elaborate fairytale dresses; and a presence so vibrant that she could do informercials and have Emma spellbound.

 

This Evil Queen has none of that vibrance, and even her quirked lips are more of a sneer than an inviting smirk. “Hey! Apple Lady!” she calls out, and the Evil Queen turns.

 

“I was expecting the other one,” she says, tilting her head. “You will do.” 

 

“What?” Emma says, bewildered. Never one to stand around and wait for an enemy to attack, she surges forward and hurls a fist at the Evil Queen– 

 

And she stumbles and trips on her face a few feet away. 

 

She stares up at the Evil Queen, woozy, and catches sight of a diamond embedded in her throat. No, not the Evil Queen’s throat. The woman standing over her is tall and willowy, a greenish tint to her skin, and the diamond is glowing white. “What did you…”

 

The woman raises her fist and hurtles into the sky with unmistakable skill. 

 

“No, no, no,” Emma chants, struggling to fly after her. “ _Fuck_!” She’s been drained somehow. She can’t access her powers, and she’s beginning to think that–

 

“Siren,” Regina’s voice says from somewhere above her. _How the hell did she get here this quickly?_  How long has Emma been like this? Time is beginning to elude her. “They’re shapeshifters. More importantly, they have the ability to suck out your superpowers with that diamond of theirs.” She kneels down in front of Emma. “This is just like you,” she says, long-suffering. “A month as a superhero and you’ve already lost your powers.” 

 

Emma can’t look up at her. She presses her hands against the street, summoning up all the strength she can muster…and it’s nothing. She has nothing anymore. All that planning, that final acceptance of her destiny and struggle to be someone who _matters_ , and she’s defeated in an instant by the first villain she goes up against. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispers.

 

Regina sighs again. “Well, come with me. Obviously, we’re going to have to get them back.” She reaches for Emma’s hand and tugs her up. “We can’t leave them in the hands of that siren.” 

 

She says numbly, “I didn’t think you’d want to help me. You don’t think I’m worthy of this, anyway.” 

 

Regina’s hand is still in hers, and Emma shivers at the searching eyes she gets from a woman who still doesn’t know who she really is. “I don’t think your worth is relevant here,” Regina says. “The city sees you as a hero. You can’t step down from that now.” 

 

“Oh.” Regina releases her hand and Emma follows behind her. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

 

Regina twists to stare at her. “What does this job mean to you, Swan?” she asks, eyes intent on Emma’s masked face. “What does this city mean to you?” 

 

“Saving…people…?” Emma guesses. “Isn’t that why superheroes do their thing?” Regina looks disappointed. Emma hangs her head. “Does it have to be any deeper than that?” 

 

“I suppose not.” 

 

“I’m sure the Evil Queen has some kind of sophisticated motto,” Emma mutters. “It’s like Batman and Superman, right? Batman has all these grand ideas about what Gotham City needs and why and how, and Superman just kind of wants to eat burgers and flirt with that reporter lady and save the day.” 

 

Regina looks at her. “You don’t know very much about superheroes, do you.”

 

“Comic books were an investment when I was a kid. I didn’t have the kind of money you need to read an ongoing story.” Emma shrugs. “I’m getting one, though! Someone has optioned my story. So either comics run or Netflix original series.” Her face falls. “If I get my powers back, I guess.” 

 

“I suppose people have done good things for worse reasons,” Regina muses.

 

And Emma’s always a little more confident behind the mask– or at least a little more capable of owning her inherent doofiness– so she says, “Well, that, and because there’s a really hot mayor running this city. I like to give her a hand.”

 

“…Like that one,” Regina says, but she puts a hand on Emma’s arm and casts her gaze into the sky. “My sources tell me that the one weakness these sirens have is that they’re insatiable when it comes to consuming more powers.”

 

“Your sources,” Emma says skeptically. She knows for a fact that Henry has her read him printouts of comics Wikipedia articles instead of bedtime stories. “Right.” 

 

“Pay attention, Swan.” Regina doesn’t know what Dark Swan knows, but she still pinks a little as they walk. “We’re going to need to lure the siren out again by using her own greed against her. Which means we need another Super.” 

 

“You think we can summon the Evil Queen?” Emma looks at Regina in surprise. “She won’t even…I’m not even enough of a superhero to have her try to chase me off, and that’s when I _do_ have my powers.” 

 

“She owes me a favor,” Regina says, but she puts her hand on Emma’s cheek abruptly, studying her masked face for a long moment instead. “I don’t think you should be alone right now, though.” She brightens. “The public humiliation route it is!” 

 

“ _What_? No, I can be alone!” Emma protests, following after her as Regina picks up her pace. “I can be alone just fine, thank you very much. What public humiliation–?” 

 

“You’ll see,” Regina says, leading her down an unfamiliar street. “I’ve got it all under control.” 

 

They walk in silence for a few minutes, through a neighborhood that looks only vaguely familiar and another that isn’t far from where they’d gone to college. Emma had had dreams back then– about being someone different, about changing the world. A secret part of her had dared believe that her abilities had been a strength, not a weakness, and she still hadn’t been dealt her most devastating blow by life.

 

She ventures, “When I was growing up, I didn’t really have any heroes.” Regina pauses but doesn’t respond. “I was kind of on my own a lot. I used my powers and back then, it wasn’t as accepted as it is now. So I got kicked out of homes and I never had anyone to look after me.” 

 

She shrugs. “And now my powers are celebrated and I can be someone else’s hero, you know? I know it’s all very superficial, but it’s–“ 

 

“It’s a good thing,” Regina murmurs, steering them onto the next block. “I understand.” 

 

She’s smiling at Emma, sunshine peering through behind storm clouds, and Emma feels heat rising through her stomach into her chest. Regina’s never looked at either version of her quite like that. Maybe once, back in college, after she’d kissed Emma and Emma had hovered over her in bed and it had seemed like maybe this would last. 

 

She’d been afraid of her own strength other times– the months with Neal after college when she’d given up on an education to be a career scam artist, the first time she’d ever tried to sleep with a girl in her freshman year– but with Regina, she’d forgotten herself in the ferocity and wound up gentler than she ever would have imagined. Regina had laughed once, uncontained and fierce, and Emma had been a goner.

 

“We’re here,” Regina says, and Emma jolts, remembering herself. 

 

“This is just Aurora’s place.” 

 

Regina smiles, gleaming teeth barely visible behind her lips, cat with a mouse. “Exactly.” 

 

Public humiliation means having Aurora put together an Evil Queen outfit that’ll fit on Dark Swan, plopping a wig onto her head, and having so much cleavage pushed up that Emma can’t stop gaping down at it. “You would have killed in this outfit,” she says, setting up the headdress over her Dark Swan mask.

 

“I’m the mayor,” Regina sniffs. “I have to have at least a modicum of dignity.”

 

Aurora smiles to herself and keeps fixing the outfit. “The Evil Queen might take exception to you wearing her clothes, Dark Swan.” 

 

“Well, yes,” Regina says swiftly. “The public humiliation is twofold.” As the only person who’s getting out of this without any humiliation factor, she seems much more interested in staring down Emma’s new cleavage than she is being sympathetic.

 

But she calls her driver and has him pick them up from there, and Emma sits beside Regina in the car and feels her hand warm around hers. It’s (hopefully) the only time she’ll ever be able to squeeze it this hard again, and she takes advantage to grip Regina’s hand with all her might as they listen to the radio.

 

There’s an urgent report of a woman wreaking havoc near the Storybrooke Mall, and Regina directs her driver to it. 

 

“You might not have been thinking about the good of the city,” Regina says when they pull over. “But the city thinks of you as their hero now. And I’m not going to let them lose you.” She squeezes Emma’s hand once more and steps out onto the sidewalk. “You can do this, Swan.” 

 

She strides through the crowd of people as though she owns it, parting it with all the ease that the Evil Queen probably displays. Emma does her best to mimic Regina’s step, glowering at the crowds and stalking past storefronts until she spots the siren up ahead.

 

And she considers for the first time that she doesn’t actually have any power anymore. “Fuck,” she says aloud, and the siren roars toward her. She had _not_ thought this through. 

 

She can only hope that Regina had. 

 

But Regina is shouting her name and Emma hears a _crack_ as the siren’s fist slams into her rib cage. Emma crumples, elbows against the floor in an attempt to try and prop herself up that fails. She kicks outward and hits nothing but solid, invulnerable flesh. 

 

“You are not the Evil Queen,” the siren growls, yanking off her wig. “Dark Swan. Did you return to be defeated again?” It kicks her forward, hurtling her against the wall, and she feels more sharp pain.

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ Neither of them had thought beyond baiting the siren, and now Emma’s going to be killed because she hadn’t bothered to think ahead. She slides to the ground, leaving a sticky trail of blood against the wall behind her, and she’s just about ready to give up–

 

There’s a flash of purple light behind her and the siren is frozen in place, struggling to move against an invisible shield of magic. “The Evil Queen?” Emma croaks, disbelieving. It can’t be. But who else has that kind of magic, that signature violet color? 

 

But the Evil Queen herself doesn’t appear. Instead, Regina steps forward nimbly and circles the siren, brow furrowed in concentration as she considers what to do next. “The diamond,” Emma says, barely audibly.

 

Regina nods and yanks out the diamond, sending a massive shockwave through the mall. There are cries of fear and pain and Emma joins them, choking out agonized breaths as she’s thrown across the hallway _again_. 

 

And when she looks up, Regina is standing over her with the diamond, her eyes conflicted. “What are you waiting for?” Emma demands. Regina’s eyes flicker to her right.

 

Several feet away from her, an identically bruised and battered Dark Swan is slumped over on the floor. _The siren is a shapeshifter_. Regina glances from one of them to the other, uncertain which to choose, and Emma wants to sob.

 

She doesn’t. Instead, she tries a quavering smile and puts all her desperate faith in Regina. She can’t quite talk anymore, not without straining even more of her body in the process, and so she waits in silence. 

 

Regina’s eyes are hard on the siren, studying her features before turning back to Emma, and Emma’s never wished more that she could rip off the mask on her face and show her true self to Regina. “Please,” she whispers, blinking back pained tears.

 

Regina steps forward and presses the diamond into her neck, the sharp point breaking the skin and pouring all her power back into her. Emma sucks in a breath, her body healing itself seamlessly as she falls back onto the ground.

 

Regina kneels beside her, stroking a finger against her brow as though Emma is Henry on a sick day, and Emma smiles up at her. “You saved me.” 

 

“The Evil Queen saved you,” Regina corrects her. “She must have taken exception to the siren using her image to lure you out.” Her finger slides down to trace the edges of her mask. “I just did what I had to to protect Storybrooke from a new threat.” 

 

“Right.” The siren throws its head back and begins to shriek, and Emma has to pull away from Regina to dispatch it, once and for all. It goes faster this time.

 

And when she’s done, Regina tangles her fingers in hers for a moment and says, “Go save the world, Dark Swan. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

 

“I’m sure we will,” Emma murmurs, and she feels lighter than ever as she shoots into the air.


	4. Sloth

“It’s not that I think that Dark Swan and the Evil Queen should shag,” Zelena says conversationally, “It’s just that I’ve started photoshopping them into suggestive poses together. My follower count on Tumblr has skyrocketed since the Swan Queen fandom took off.” 

 

Regina counts backwards from ten. Pauses. Counts backwards from twenty. Breathes. “Zelena, I asked you if Henry’s party decorations had been delivered yet.” 

 

“Well, I don’t know that,” Zelena says, her tinny voice irritable over the phone. “What am I, the housekeeper? I have better things to do with my time than– oh, here they are.” She shuts down the call. Regina sighs with relief, drumming her fingers against her desk as she contemplates her next move.

 

Henry’s birthday party is tomorrow morning, and preparations are already underway. He’s requested a _local superhero_ -themed party, and it’s been its own kind of torture to set up.

 

For one thing, she’s never going to get used to a life-sized cutout of the Evil Queen in the rec room, and she’s spent the past day avoiding it so no one will look too hard at it and then her. For another, the Dark Swan cutout has ensured that there’s nowhere she can go where she can stop thinking about the hapless superhero.

 

So they’d had a few _moments_ , back when Dark Swan had lost her powers. So Regina is kind of charmed at this point. So Regina thinks about her more than is casual. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Dark Swan is a ridiculous flirt, displays much too much vulnerability for someone that powerful, and has no greater awareness of her role in this world. And somehow, she’s wormed her way in through Regina’s defenses and left her… _infatuated_. 

 

She scowls at herself, hating the word as much as she does the sentiment. She isn’t infatuated. Infatuation implies something more than just attraction, and that’s all this is. Dark Swan is full of earnest desire to do good and that same bumbling idiot bit that she’s always been attracted to against her better judgment, but it’s nothing she can’t move past.

 

At least she’s _proactive_ , which is more than Regina can say for her liaison from the sheriff’s department. Emma’s been listless all day, wandering between Graham’s office in City Hall and Regina’s office and getting nothing done. 

 

And since Regina is apparently surrounded lately by attractive women she can’t get out of her head, this is just as distracting. “Have you filed any of the paperwork from the last Dark Swan fiasco?” she snaps when Emma drifts in. “We don’t have time for slacking today.” 

 

“I’ll get it done,” Emma says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just…a rough day for me, okay?” 

 

She could inquire as to why, could offer comfort and a day off that’d end like one of their stalemates back in college– each of them lying on their own bed, speaking haltingly until the dams had broken. Then they’d laugh, tease, and invariably one of them would say the wrong thing and the peace would shatter. Regina would lie on her bed, a rift widening between them, and she’d ache at the loss of something she hadn’t been able to name.

 

She isn’t that girl anymore. She’d grown right past her and she refuses to fall back to her because Emma Swan still stirs something within her that longs to connect. So instead, she says, “We all have rough days. Somehow, everyone else still manages to get their jobs done.” 

 

Emma tilts her face toward the ceiling. “Could you– just this once, not be such a–“ She cuts herself off, burying her face in her hands. “I’ll get it done,” she mutters. 

 

Regina says, “See that you do,” with vague unease. Emma might be particularly lazy today, but it’s unusual even from her to react like this to a chiding. And she doesn’t know how to deal with an Emma who doesn’t shrug off her snideness or pick up every offered gauntlet. 

 

Emma vanishes to do her paperwork and Regina makes irritable phone calls, her mood dropping considerably with every extra minute Emma’s away. It’s not that she has to justify anything to herself. She knows she’s _right_. But she’s still second-guessing her tone and demands until Emma finally shuffles back into the room. “It’s done,” Emma says, sinking onto the couch. “Happy now?” 

 

“What happened to you?” Regina demands. It emerges accusatory, and she purses her lips and tries again. “Are you feeling all right?”

 

“Mmhm.” But Emma’s eyes are already closed, her boots propped up on the arm of the couch and her arms tucked under her head. 

 

Regina nearly wakes her to demand she get her shoes off the couch; but instead, in a flood of guilt and compassion, she tiptoes over and eases the boots off. “You can throw in a foot massage, while you’re at it,” Emma says sleepily, and Regina rolls her eyes and eases her feet back onto the couch. 

 

“I thought you were asleep.” 

 

“I am asleep,” Emma agrees. Her voice is thick and familiar like this, that same gulf between them as there had been when they’d been roommates, and Regina closes her own eyes and strains her ears to hear Emma’s even breathing. “If I were awake, we’d definitely be fighting.”

 

“Can’t have that,” Regina agrees dryly. Emma used to sleep in the stiffest positions, stretched out like a log across her bed and unmoving, and she hasn’t changed in the past decade. There’s a deceptive openness to her like this, exposed to the world but ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. During the night they’d spent together, Emma had curled up on her side and let Regina slide her arms around her, and she’d slept quieter than she had the rest of the year.

 

Regina grits her teeth and forces _that_ distraction from her mind.

 

Emma wakes up an hour later and returns to sleepwalking through City Hall, morose and useless and so frustrating that Regina finally barks out a dismissal and sends her home. “If Dark Swan has a new crisis today, I’m sure she can handle it without me,” she says grimly, because Dark Swan really has gotten better about her crises. She hasn’t destroyed a building in weeks and hasn’t had a single casualty since the SMNH. She’s been making progress, which is more than Regina can say for Emma. “Take your weekend. Come back Monday committed or don’t come back.” 

 

Emma tosses her a cool look, eyes glinting and her lips parting as though she’s about to blurt out something vicious– or alternately, start to sob. Regina tenses. But she leaves without comment, and Regina snaps orders at her assistant for the rest of the day with extra bite. 

 

It’s a relief to come home to her son and her impossible sister, who’s settled on the couch with a gin cocktail and her snow macaque on her shoulder. “Those creatures eat off their owners’ faces,” Regina says, sinking onto the couch. “I don’t want it near Henry.” 

 

Zelena rolls her eyes. “Relax, sis. I’ll send it back to Oz right after the party.” Still, Regina had spent enough of her childhood surrounded by flying monkeys to find even them comforting. (There had also been quite a few tornadoes. Zelena had never been one for subtly leaving when they’d been forced to attend Mother’s professional dinner parties.)

 

They eat dinner in relative silence, and Regina and Henry are arranging the Evil Queen and Dark Swan cardboard cutouts on either side of the rec room when Regina feels someone watching her. It’s become an automatic reflex at this point to look out the windows before she checks the doorways.

 

Dark Swan is hovering a few feet above the porch doors, watching them with a forlorn expression beneath the mask. Henry waves. Regina puts an arm around his shoulders. “Go see what your Auntie Zelena is up to, sweetheart. I’ll be right there.” 

 

She’s surprised that he doesn’t give her a fight, considering how much he seems to adore Dark Swan. She’d have expected him to still be awestruck, demanding tips from the Swan on how to become a superhero and a request for an autograph. But he just scampers from the room as she opens the door, folding her arms around herself as she looks up at the Super now hovering level her porch. “Hello, Swan.” Dark Swan is watching Henry leave, her gaze…wistful, almost. Regina blinks.

 

“Hi.” Dark Swan’s voice sounds odd– higher than her usual modulated tone and familiar– and then she coughs and says, “Hello, Madam Mayor,” in a lower tone. Regina expects a cocky comment on the decorations, but instead, Dark Swan notes with a distinctly melancholy sag to her jaw, “You and your son are close.”

 

“Very much so.” She remembers Dark Swan’s admission that she’d been an orphan. She moves to the porch rail, reaching over to cup the woman’s cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s wrong?” she murmurs, a shiver running through her hand and her heart and her stomach at the contact.

 

Dark Swan leans into her palm, closing her eyes as though she derives real comfort from Regina’s touch, and Regina shivers again. “I wanted to see…” Dark Swan hesitates. “I wanted to see you. I’m sorry I intruded.” She dips forward, her hand landing on Regina’s arm. It’s electric as a live wire, and Regina is frozen in place with longing she won’t dare define. 

 

“Not an intrusion at all,” she finds herself saying, the emotion of it warm in her throat. _This ridiculous infatuation is to blame_. “I was actually wondering if you’d like to swing by tomorrow. You’re the star of Henry’s birthday party.” She gestures to the cardboard cutout. 

 

“Your son's birthday is tomorrow?” Dark Swan is visibly taken aback. “There’s an odd almost-coincidence.” 

 

“Almost-coincidence?” Regina repeats, frowning. Dark Swan doesn’t elaborate. Regina amends, “Actually, he turns eleven today, but we’re having the celebration tomorrow.”

 

Dark Swan drops her hand and flutters back in the air like a startled moth. “Oh,” she enunciates, her voice barely a breath. Her eyes are wide, but Regina can’t make out the emotion they convey with a mask concealing her face. “I see.”

 

“Swan?” she says, uncertain and not quite sure why. “What’s…?” Something is wrong, and not knowing _what_ grates at her and piques her interest at once.

 

Dark Swan gazes down at her, eyes burning. “Fly with me,” she says.

 

She hasn’t invited Regina on a flight since the day she’d unveiled herself to the world, and Regina hasn’t asked. With all her abilities as a mayor and mother and public figure, she can’t count _flying_ as one of them; and the idea of it holds a certain allure that would have put too much power in Dark Swan’s hands, if she’d known.

 

And today, she can’t refuse Dark Swan anymore. She wraps trembling arms around Dark Swan's neck, the Swan’s own hand shaking as it slides around her waist. She’s molded to her side, her head resting against Dark Swan’s shoulder as she turns her gaze upward. And Dark Swan takes off into the night.

 

Regina laughs, exhilarated as they soar higher and higher. Dark Swan hasn’t spoken yet; but her embrace is still tight and the set of her jaw bespeaks pain, not pleasure. “Swan,” Regina breathes, but it’s swallowed by the air around them, the rush of wind and coolness of the night and the silence around them below a city that doesn’t sleep. Dark Swan shoots through the sky, Regina’s only safeguard from free fall, and Regina tilts her face up to Dark Swan’s and kisses her.

 

Dark Swan kisses her back without a moment of hesitation– and she _knows_ these lips, or maybe she’s only spent so long imagining how they’d feel on hers that she can map out every nuance, every intake of breath and the taste of her lips– and _oh_ , this is a mistake. This is paradise. This is reckless and Dark Swan’s hands are in her hair and her lips are sweet and intoxicating and Regina wants to consume every last inch of her.

 

They’ve shifted positions so they’re upright in midair, Regina’s legs clamped around Dark Swan’s waist for balance as she curls her tongue and nuzzles the other woman’s nose. She brushes against her mask and Dark Swan pulls back, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Swan?” Regina says, alarmed. “Have I…Is this what you wanted?” 

 

She isn’t accustomed to being the non-enigma in a relationship. Maybe that’s why Dark Swan holds this fascination with her– because for all her oafish childishness, she still sets Regina off-kilter in a way that only Emma is capable of in Regina's own domain. But right now, it feels more like weakness than excitement to see Dark Swan shake her head and explain nothing. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Dark Swan whispers, voice hoarse. “Everything I…” 

 

Regina’s feet are loosened from around her and touch solid ground, back on the porch. Dark Swan floats away again to a safe distance. “I’ll come tomorrow,” she promises, voice unsteady. “For your…your son’s…”

 

She turns and blurs away into the night, leaving Regina at the edge of the porch with her hands gripping the porch rail so hard that it shatters beneath them. 

 

* * *

 

In the morning, there’s no more time to stare out the window and mull over the events of the night before. There’s a party planner to coordinate with, adolescents to welcome into the house, and a cardboard cutout of the Evil Queen that Regina is avoiding by lingering near the Dark Swan one.

 

It’s a decent facsimile of her face, but it’s cut out all the imperfections– the gleam in her eyes that speaks less of heroics than it does determination to prove herself; the stubborn set to her jaw and the twitchiness of her demeanor and the foolhardy way she jumps first and thinks later. Henry takes a dozen photos of her next to the cutout before he says, “And you should do a few with the Evil Queen, too! She’s your favorite, right?” 

 

“My _favorite_ ,” Regina says, leaning back against a bookcase. “Is knowing that you and your friends have these strong women to look up to instead of another cookie-cutter posturing antihero. Or Zelena. That’s my only concern when it comes to Supers.” 

 

“Okay, Mom.” He rolls his eyes at her in a practiced move he’s borrowed from her repertoire. “I’m going to– Hey! Emma!” He brightens. 

 

Regina turns to the doorway, where Emma is standing. She’s blocking the way for one of Henry’s friends, frozen in place as she stares blankly Henry’s way. _Another one of those days, then._ Regina heaves a sigh and grabs her arm, tugging her away from the door. “Is something going on?” she asks in a murmur. “Has there been another crisis?” 

 

Emma jerks her arm away and nearly topples over. Regina steadies her, picking out the glassy eyes and the way Emma staggers. “Are you _drunk_? It’s eleven in the morning!” 

 

“Still kind of screwed up from last night,” Emma mumbles. “Shouldn’t have come. I know you’d prefer Dark Swan to be here, anyway.” Her voice is resentful, too fast and too angry and with thick with hurt.

 

Regina is stymied because Emma can’t possibly _know_ – Of course she doesn’t. Unless it’s written all over her face. “Damn right you shouldn’t have come,” she hisses. “How did you know there was a party at all? Did Henry invite–“ 

 

“Yes, let’s talk about Henry,” Emma says suddenly, stumbling back against the wall and hanging onto a table in the foyer. “Let’s– So Henry’s adopted, right?” 

 

“Yes?” Regina says, puzzled. “You know that already.” 

 

“Closed adoption. Eleven years and one day ago.” She laughs wildly. “Eleven and one. _Fuck_. Fuck, fuck–“ She earns a scandalized look from one of the parents.

 

“There are children here!” Regina snaps. An indefinable dread is crawling through her, a warning bell tolling without explanation. There’s something about the desperation in Emma’s eyes that speaks of horrors to come, and she doesn’t like it. “And unless you sober up in the next thirty seconds, you’re out.” 

 

“What would you do if the birth mother came back into his life?” Emma asks, abrupt and with urgency. “If she wanted to see him and know him and…” She runs out of words and gestures wildly. 

 

Regina doesn’t have time for Emma’s strange melancholy interfering with Henry’s birthday party. “I imagine I’d get a restraining order,” she says, signaling to Zelena to join them. “But this really isn’t the time–“ 

 

“It’s me,” Emma blurts out. 

 

Regina stares at her. “What?” 

 

Emma grasps her arm. “It was…after I dropped out of college, I lost my funding and I fell in with this _guy_. I wound up taking the fall for him and I was put into a rehabilitative facility and I didn’t know where to go when I realized I was…” She gestures helplessly toward her stomach, still babbling as Regina’s eyes bore into her. “I gave him up. I knew he wouldn’t have a life with me. But eleven years and one day ago! And Henry looks so much like Neal now, and I don’t know for sure but I _know_ , you know? I know he’s–“

 

And none of this is possible. The world is closing in around her, growing starkly defined and too bright and she can’t escape this– this _absurdity_ , this impossibility– and Emma Swan watching her with pained eyes as she talks and talks and talks. 

 

And this world is one step too coincidental to be natural. This world would take Henry from Emma’s arms and place him into Regina’s, as neat as a story in a comic book, and there’s nothing they can do about it. This world would lead them to this moment, Regina frozen in place and Emma’s hand still on her arm, eyes watery and pleading, and she’d have to say…

 

“Get out,” she says, her voice distant. “Get out of my house.” 

 

“Regina, please. I didn’t know. I didn’t think–“ 

 

“Get _out_!” Regina snaps, her voice rising. “Get out, get out!” Zelena is there behind her, moving forward, speaking words that Regina can’t think through understanding. The world is greying and only two people are in still lit in color: Emma Swan with a bright red jacket and yellow hair and helpless eyes and Henry Mills pushing toward them with a concerned set to his mouth. “Get away from us!” she bites out, and Zelena, dull in greyscale, escorts the blur of red and yellow and defeat to the door.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could not reply to reviews yet bc i still have two and a half of these to write and no time omg. this is happening. don't worry. i got this. your reviews are sustaining me through this marathon process, love y'all, sorry for the angst and stuff. this will still be a happy fluff fic soon enough~


	5. Wrath

The news is displaying Dark Swan’s brawl with a woman who goes as “The Zookeeper.” Regina lets it run in the background, glancing up whenever the newscaster gasps. The Zookeeper has a pack of Dalmatians nipping at Dark Swan’s heels, and Dark Swan is delighted instead of afraid. _Typical_.

 

“I was under the impression that you’d wanted us to be present at Dark Swan’s battles,” her new liaison from the sheriff’s department says. Her name is Mulan and she’s the next-ranking deputy after Emma Swan. 

 

Regina hadn’t had to request a change of deputy. Mulan had been there the Monday morning after Henry’s birthday party, bright and earlier than Emma’s ever arrived. Regina had been as quietly relieved as she’d been frustrated. “Another time, Deputy Hua. I have work to do.” 

 

And there’s another frustration: Dark Swan is keeping her distance. She isn’t quite as distant as Emma, who’s vanished into thin air as swiftly as she’d reappeared in Regina’s life in the first place. Dark Swan has flashed her vague smiles and offered brief conversation and even apologized for not making it to Henry’s party, but there have been no more rides. No more kisses. No more clumsy come-ons.

 

Her life is simpler when she’s a disinterested mayor instead of an active part of Dark Swan fighting crime, and yet…

 

She focuses on the paperwork in front of her, listening to the newscaster with half an ear. “The Zookeeper releases another set of dragons at our Swan. She must not know that Dark Swan is fireproof! Dark Swan has the upper hand in this fight and has vowed to banish the Zookeeper by the end of the day. Oh, what’s this–?” 

 

Regina looks up. The Zookeeper is brandishing a long gun with a round barrel, watching with keen eyes as Dark Swan swoops up higher and higher to draw the dragons away from the city’s skyline. The Zookeeper breathes a command to her beasts, and they dive down again. Dark Swan follows. 

 

“No,” Regina whispers, a moment too late. The tranq gun fires and impales a dart in Dark Swan’s leg, and Dark Swan jerks backward and blinks down woozily at the cameras. She falls a moment later, dropping like a stone and crashing toward the ground with terrifying force. 

 

Mere moments before she hits the ground, there’s a cloud of violet around her and the newscaster breathes a sigh of relief. “Looks like the Evil Queen has found one superhero worth protecting!” she announces, hand on her heart as the Evil Queen glowers out at them. She sets Dark Swan gently on a nearby roof and has a heated conversation with the Zookeeper that has the latter supervillain climb on her dragon and depart the city.

 

“Justice is served,” the newscaster says as Regina settles back into her seat. “No news yet on what happened to Dark Swan. If that was a tranquilizer dart, we could be looking at hours– maybe days– before she’s back with us.” 

 

Mulan blinks at Regina. “Did you just…” 

 

“No,” Regina says, eyes fixed on her work.

 

“I see,” Mulan says, and she remains wisely silent. Regina closes her file and draws up a nondisclosure agreement.

 

* * *

 

She doesn’t think too much about Dark Swan, vulnerable on a roof somewhere across the city. But somehow, she finds herself following the news avidly for the rest of the day; and when she’s finished with work, she orders her driver to that same rooftop. 

 

Dark Swan is gone when she makes it up to the roof to check. She could have flown away. She could have been kidnapped. Regina paces, considering her options.

 

Two minutes later, she hears the flutter of a feathered cape against the wind and says, eyes still on the skyline, “So you survived that.” 

 

“Thanks to the Evil Queen,” Dark Swan says. She sounds– different. Her modulated voice emerges less staccato than usual, and her eyes glint with malice when Regina turns to stare at her. _Malice_. From _Dark Swan_ , whose regular state of being is _slightly more complex than a puppy_. Regina stares. “If I’d known Storybrooke City’s resident supervillain was just a big softie, I’d have picked that fight a while ago.” She laughs unpleasantly. “But never mind that old bitch.” 

 

Regina opens her mouth, offended, and Dark Swan captures her mouth in a heated kiss. It’s ferocious, dominant in a way that she hadn’t been before, and Regina is breathless and furious at once. She kisses her back with ardent fire, digs her fingers into invulnerable skin and bites and sucks on Dark Swan’s pulse point until the superhero sucks in a ragged breath.

 

“Kitty likes to play,” Dark Swan growls, eyes dilated in a way that sends deja vu coursing through Regina’s skin–

 

Maybe it’s just a mark of how fixated she is on the Issue-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named that she’s taken back to a night twelve years ago, to Emma Swan hovering over her as she writhes against Regina's fingers; to Emma pressed to her and gazing up at her with those same dilated eyes as she whispers, _Wanted this for so long, Regina, please–_

 

She wrenches herself from Dark Swan’s grasp, breathing heavily, and searches her eyes again. This time, there’s no hint of Emma in Dark Swan’s face and she feels foolish just contemplating it. There is, however, a hint of red in her eyes that gives Regina pause.

 

And then, because devastating events follow superheroes as devotedly as the Nolan-Blanchards' goat follows Zelena, there’s a crash of breaking glass from a nearby skyscraper. Regina turns, watching the office chair tumbling down to the sidewalk below as a man steps out onto the window it had shattered. “Swan,” she says, her mouth dry. “He’s going to jump.” 

 

Dark Swan shrugs. “Sucks to be him. Now, where were we?” She seizes Regina’s waist, pulling her in again, and nibbles suggestively at her earlobe as Regina stares at the man in horror. He’s teetering on the ledge now, looking down with trepidation.

 

“Swan!” she says, shoving the other woman back. “What the hell was in that dart?” The red gleam in Dark Swan’s eyes glows and fades like a dying ember. “This isn’t you.” 

 

She’s thought of bravery– of that determination of superheroes to save everyone without reservation– as an insipid weakness, as arbitrary principles that only ever cause more damage than they will relief. But somehow, confronted with indifference from Dark Swan, she’s taken aback and unnerved by its absence. “Swan,” she repeats again, pleading. She can’t run the risk of going after the man, not right in front of Dark Swan. But if she has no choice… 

 

“Fine,” Dark Swan says, rolling her eyes irritably. “I’ll save the asshole. Were you always this annoying?” The man stumbles and falls and Dark Swan hurtles forward, catching him before he makes it down a story and setting him down on the ground. She flies back to Regina, sweeping her into the air. 

 

“There. Good deed of the day.” She moves in for another kiss and Regina puts a hand on her chest, shoving her as far back as she can while she’s being carried through the air. Dark Swan sighs. “Why are you so damned uptight today?”

 

“Why are you so–“ 

 

 Dark Swan drops her.

 

For one horrifying moment, Regina plummets through the air, too shocked to react to the fall. And then Dark Swan is swooping below her, catching her in her arms with a gleeful laugh. Regina slaps her. “What the hell?”

 

“Lighten up, Madam Mayor,” Dark Swan drawls, tossing her up again like she’s a _beach ball_. Regina snaps a curse and Dark Swan catches her again. “I thought we would have a good time.” 

 

“I’d rather fall to my death,” Regina spits out, too furious to be terrified. “What the _fuck_ happened to you? Get away from me.” 

 

Dark Swan’s eyes glint red. “Now ain’t that familiar? You’re no fun.” Regina is dropped again, this time just a few feet above her car, and she lands on the roof with a groan of pain and her fists clenched with fury. 

 

“Ma’am?” her driver asks, alarmed. “Do you need me to take you to the hospital?” 

 

“That’s quite all right, Jim,” Regina says, sitting up straight as an ache shoots through her back. “I have work to do.” 

 

Something is wrong. That hadn’t been Dark Swan. That had been Dark Swan under the influence, Dark Swan with everything that had made her so damned _heroic_ warped and perverted. That had been a villain, and Dark Swan would never willingly become that.

 

She needs to go home, to research what phenomenon had caused this. She’ll call Maleficent and find out what she knows about the Zookeeper’s weapons. She’ll _fix this_ , and for her city. Not because she’s grown accustomed to Dark Swan’s childlike zeal to save the world. 

 

If nothing else, she decides, still breathing heavily and her heart racing from the falls, today is a warning against getting too attached to a superhero. And she shakes her head and sinks into her seat and misses Emma so desperately that she chokes out a sob.

 

_Emma_ , with her terrible wisecracks and earnest eyes and the way that she’s always moving toward Regina, even when it’s jittery and argumentative and her heart is on her sleeve. Emma who’s guarded but had still looked at Regina like she’d moved the moon, right up until she’d dropped an unforgivable bombshell and Regina had sent her away for good. 

 

She doesn’t need Emma anymore. But she would have summoned her to her house in the early evening just to sort out this Dark Swan issue, and Emma would have made her roll her eyes a few times and forget any sort of heartbreak. And Regina would determinedly avoid thoughts of Emma’s lips on hers and the complications–

 

Emma is Henry’s birth mother. Regina had called Sidney, had gotten files locked away and confirmation. There will be no more daydreams of Emma Swan. As far as Regina’s concerned, Emma is as good as gone forever.

 

And the anguish that washes over her at the thought of it and leaves her choking for breath in the undertow is unreasonable.

 

Jim discreetly eases up the privacy partition and parks outside her house, grabbing a smoke while she remains inside the car, her body and heart and throat all aching for something to change. 

 

When she’s finally ready to go inside, it’s to an empty house. “Henry? Zelena!” she calls, but there’s no response. She walks from room to room before she thinks to check the fridge door. _Gone to Oz. Henry with Emma_ , is the unhelpful note Zelena has left, and Regina clenches her fists, her sorrow forgotten at Emma’s audacity.

 

How _dare_ she. After all Regina’s warnings, after vanishing from Regina’s life entirely– and now she’s stolen Henry away in front of her? “You didn’t see Henry around, did you?” she demands of Jim.

 

He nods. “She and Henry left the house…five, maybe ten minutes ago? They went in that little yellow clunker of Emma’s. I didn’t think you’d want them to see you.” 

 

“I didn’t ask you,” Regina snaps. “Your services will not be needed tonight.” Jim strolls off to his own car, and Regina slides into the driver’s seat and mutters a few words to herself. 

 

Said words guide her downtown, where Emma’s distinctive yellow Bug is parked outside a pizza place. Regina parks too close to the curb, scrapes a line of paint off her car, and storms from the vehicle to the pizza store. 

 

And there they are. Henry is staring at Emma, his eyes red-rimmed and disbelieving, and Emma is gesturing rapidly at him and looking more and more dissatisfied every time he shakes his head. Panic bursts into full blossom in Regina’s heart.  _No. No, she wouldn’t…_

 

“I don’t understand,” Henry says, his voice hoarse. “I don’t understand why you’re saying these things to me. My birth mom–“

 

“ _I’m_ your birth mom,” Emma interjects, sounding exasperated. “Keep up, kid. Your mom is trying to keep us apart and I don’t think that’s fair to either of us, do you?” She leans forward. “So let’s go.” 

 

“Go?” Henry repeats, trapped. His eyes land on Regina and he looks as though he might collapse with relief. “Mom!” 

 

“Henry!” Regina strides across the room and he nearly falls into her arms, casting a frightened gaze back at Emma. Emma sits back in her chair, her jaw working tightly. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.” 

 

“Zelena said it was fine! I didn’t know…” He buries his face in her shoulder. “Mom, is it true?” 

 

“It’s true,” she says, struggling to keep her voice even. Henry doesn’t need her to explode at Emma right now. “I only just found out, too. Why don’t you go to the counter and order us some falafel to go? We can talk when we get home.” He bobs his head and scurries for the counter. 

 

Regina rounds on Emma. “What the hell?” she demands, furious. “ _Do_ you want a restraining order? Do you have any idea how cruel that was?” 

 

Emma stares up at her, emotionless. “He had a right to know.” 

 

“At the right time! With the right people! You don’t even know for sure–“ She sees the answer in Emma’s eyes before she speaks. “Have you been going through my personal papers?” 

 

Emma is silent, challenging, and what the hell is in the air in Storybrooke City? Why is everyone reliable suddenly becoming–

 

“You wanted me gone,” Emma says, and Regina doesn’t recognize her face when it’s this pinched and unfriendly, as though the rift between them has already stretched to a distant they can’t traverse. “I don’t leave easy.” There’s an accusation in that that has Regina simmering quietly. “But frankly, I really don’t care about any of this.” She shrugs and stands, arms swinging at her sides, and walks past Regina out of the pizza shop without another word.

 

* * *

 

“Red K,” Henry says when they’re in the car. His face is still stained with tears but he has falafel and it’s enough to have him talking again.

 

“What?” she says, startled. 

 

Henry shrugs. “Red kryptonite. It’s like…Superman without the moral compass. I know Dark Swan is different but that’s what happened to her. I think.” 

 

“How did you even know that Dark Swan was under that influence?” she asks, alarmed. If the paparazzi had caught their mayor and resident superhero in an embrace, Regina might as well kiss any authority or future goodbye. “Did you see it on the news?” 

 

“I just know, Mom, okay?” he says. His lip is trembling like he’s still lost in the events of a half hour ago, and Regina hesitates and places a hand on his shoulder. “I just…” His voice is small. “Emma’s my mom?”

 

“ _I’m_ your mom,” Regina corrects him. “I’m always going to be your mom, regardless of who gave birth to you.” 

 

“I just…” he repeats, blinking rapidly. “I don’t understand why she gave me up.” 

 

Regina’s been rehearsing this response for eleven years; but today, she drops the script. “Emma’s life was…different than yours or mine. It was a bit more like Dark Swan’s, but she never had superpowers to keep her safe.” She presses her lips together and remembers a year of offhand confessions, of Emma Swan with her hair tangled into an ancient scrunchie and her face scrubbed clean of makeup and guile. 

 

Henry says, “Is that why you like her so much?” 

 

Regina resists the urge to light the steering wheel on fire and end the conversation right now. “Which… Dark Swan? Or Emma?” 

 

“Yeah,” Henry says.

 

“What…? Wait,” she says, distracted. “I don’t _like_ either of them _so much_. I just…I’m trying to explain why Emma might have given you up. For your best chance. And I’ve done everything I could to make sure you had that best chance.” 

 

“Grandma’s a supervillain,” Henry says. “She tried to make you a superhero when you were little. You didn’t have such an easy life, either. But you still wanted me.” He stares morosely out the window and Regina doesn’t have an answer to that.

 

Everyone’s childhood trauma turns them out into the world differently. Regina’s childhood had been her mother pushing her headfirst into a life she hadn’t been made for, a fraud without powers flitting through Super society as though she’d belonged there. It had been sink-or-swim, and she’d sunk deeper and deeper as Mother and Zelena had flourished on the other side. 

 

Regina had fought back in her early years in university and Mother had finally backed off when Regina had been a resentful senior. _I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for_ , she’d said, and it hadn’t been a blessing as much as a puzzle that Regina had never interpreted. And Mother had finally had her way, anyway, the day that Regina had cradled an infant Henry in her arms in the wreckage of a superhero battle and sworn that she’d never be helpless to protect him again.

 

But the world doesn’t take well to superheroes with a healthy disdain for the system. She’d had no network, no credentials, and she hadn’t wanted to do much more than keep interfering Supers from her city and her son. _The Evil Queen,_ they’d styled her. _Scourge of Supers,_ they’d said. _Supervillain_ , they’d pronounced.

 

And so she was.

 

She eats falafel with Henry and tells him the story of the day she’d gotten him until he falls asleep on the couch beside her. She strokes his hair and makes a few phone calls, and she’s just hanging up with Maleficent when Zelena waltzes in. “Have you seen what’s been going on out there?” she says. “Dark Swan’s gone mad. They say she’s been punching down statues in the parks and is playing catch with a private airplane.” She laughs gleefully. “Never get a superhero drunk, eh?” 

 

“She isn’t drunk. Henry thinks she’s drugged.” 

 

“Still, that’s a lot of city property she’s destroying.” Zelena waggles her eyebrows significantly. “Seems like a job for the Evil Queen, if you ask me.”

 

“There’s nothing to insinuate,” Regina says, annoyed. Zelena’s gotten it into her head that Regina is moonlighting as the Evil Queen and she won’t shut up about it. Whether or not she’s correct is irrelevant. “I’m not in contact with the Evil Queen. I’m sure she’ll do what she has to when she has a chance.” 

 

Zelena winks. “Well, the babysitter is here now. Who knows what might happen next?”

 

“I’m going to bed,” Regina says darkly, and Zelena’s cackle follows her upstairs.

 

The Evil Queen appears in a moonlit park, dressed in the splendor of a fairytale and striding with confidence down the path to the center gazebo. A dark figure awaits her, eyes bright with malice. “So you finally make an appearance,” Dark Swan says, lounging against a fence post. “I was beginning to think you were all smoke and mirrors.” 

 

“Absurd,” the Evil Queen drawls. “Haven’t you seen my Girl Scouts ad?” She flicks a lazy finger and the air around the gazebo ripples as a shield rises around it. “Destroying public property is a finable offense in this city. But let me guess. You think you’re above the law.” 

 

“I am the law, you hag.” But Dark Swan licks her lips, eyes flickering along the Evil Queen’s figure with distinctly non-hag-related interest. “Who’s going to stop me? My _guardian angel_?” She gestures languidly at the Evil Queen, a smirk on her face that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I thought you were going to be my big nemesis. Instead you’re a has-been trying desperately to stay relevant.” 

 

The Evil Queen laughs a rich, full-bodied laugh. “You’re a child with a dandruff problem and a well-tailored costume. Do you think you’d have lasted a day if I hadn’t allowed it? This is my city. And the moment you become inconvenient–“ She cups her hand and pushes and a fireball appears within it. “You’re gone.” 

 

Dark Swan looks bored. “I’m fireproof, sister.”

 

“Are you?” According to Maleficent, Dark Swan is more vulnerable now, weakened and reckless and unaware of her own limits. And indeed, when the Evil Queen hurls her fireball, there’s an instant when Dark Swan’s hand blisters and turns red before it heals itself. 

 

Dark Swan gapes at her hand and straightens, the boredom fading from her face. “Oh, like _hell_ ,” she snarls, and she’s very suddenly in motion.

 

She’s fast. She’s so fast that the Evil Queen can only see a blur of black-and-white as Dark Swan circles her, the circle growing tighter and tighter in mere moments. The Evil Queen sneers and puts up a shield an instant too late, and Dark Swan’s superpowered fist slams into her jaw.

 

It’s not as powerful as it could be, but it still rattles every bone in her body and hurls her against the wall of the gazebo. The Evil Queen tastes blood in her mouth as Dark Swan hovers over her, arms folded and face smug. “You’re not even a Super. You think you can take me in a fair fight?” 

 

And _that_ infuriates the Evil Queen enough that she bares her teeth in a dangerous smile. “That’s what they all say.” 

 

The magic pours from her body as though she’s only its receptacle, fast as Dark Swan and with more power within it. Dark Swan is flung backward, frozen in midair and helpless, and her eyes are wide and finally afraid. The Evil Queen tastes the fear in a rush of adrenaline, watches Dark Swan’s nostrils flare and her shoulders sag within her prison. “Are you quite done?” she demands.

 

“Something’s wrong with me,” Dark Swan mutters to herself. She glares at the Evil Queen in fury. “You did something to me. You made me weak. This isn’t a fair fight.” 

 

“I never agreed it would be fair,” the Evil Queen murmurs, waving a hand and lowering Dark Swan to the ground. “And I’m not here to fight.” 

 

She slashes outward with a long, sharp fingernail and a surge of magic, ripping into Dark Swan’s thigh where the dart had first poisoned her. Dark Swan chokes out a breath, falling from her magical prison onto the Evil Queen. Her hands are on the Evil Queen’s shoulders, her head is pressed to her right hand, and she’s leaning heavily for support as sickly brown-red blood begins to seep out of the wound. “What…did you do…?” she gasps out. 

 

“Saved you.” The Evil Queen’s voice is softer now, a hand supporting Dark Swan’s waist with tender familiarity. “Again.” 

 

Dark Swan lifts her head, eyes searching the Evil Queen’s face. “I know you, don’t I?” she whispers, and her eyes roll up into her head as her hands loosen and she falls to the ground.

 

The Evil Queen kneels beside her and waits until the last of the too-thick, too-brown blood leaves Dark Swan’s body. She reaches out to heal the injury but the skin is sealing on its own now, unblemished as though she’d never been harmed.

 

Maleficent had been sure that the day would be a blur for Dark Swan post-recovery. She’ll remember bits and pieces, but nothing too concrete. Certainly not whatever she’d recognized in the Evil Queen’s face. It’ll be fine.

 

And there’s a niggling familiarity to Dark Swan like this, too, and the Evil Queen’s fingers linger over her mask. She tugs them away just as quickly, feeling as though even contemplating the woman beneath it while she’s in this state would be a betrayal. Instead, she stands up and waves her hand to restore the park to its natural state and returns home to her son.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Regina’s face is still aching. Zelena sits with her, blessedly quiet as she presses a poultice to Regina’s cheek, and the pain is all but faded when the doorbell rings.

 

“I’ll take care of it.” She isn’t surprised when it’s Emma at the door; just resigned. Yesterday had taken too much out of her to summon up the same anger now. “So it’ll be the restraining order, then?” she says, closing the door.

 

A booted foot stops it before it shuts. “I waited until I knew Henry would be in school,” Emma says, and her tone is finally penitent. “I know I didn’t…uh. I know I wasn’t on my best behavior yesterday.” It’s vague enough that Regina can feel new annoyance flare. 

 

“ _Weren’t on your best behavior_? You kidnapped an eleven-year-old from his home and told him you were his birth mother! I’d say that goes beyond _not best behavior_ ,” she says, ready to seethe again.

 

“Oh,” Emma says, stricken as though it’s finally beginning to sink in. “Oh, god. I did that. How is he?”

 

“Devastated,” Regina grinds out, and Emma looks horrified. “I didn’t think you could top your little stunt at his birthday party, and yet.” 

 

Emma stares at the ground, chastened. “I wish I could tell you what I was thinking. _I_ don’t know what I was thinking,” she says, not without some bitterness. She chews on her lower lip, turning her face to Regina’s. “I understand if you want to never see me again. I guess that was what I was going for before I fucked this all up.” 

 

“Good,” Regina says darkly, turning around to close the door.

 

“You know,” Emma says, her voice shaky. Regina hesitates. “With my past and all, I never really had a family. The first place I ever found a home was in that dorm room with you.” 

 

Regina aches, undone with a simple admission. She won’t forgive her. She can’t forgive her. “Emma…” 

 

“I didn’t make it a year in college. I don’t think I wanted to go back, anyway, knowing you’d be done.” Regina turns back. Emma bites her lip again. “But I’m glad that…I’m glad to know that that baby found a home with you, too. Even if you want to kill me right now for yesterday.” She smiles a humorless smile, a heart-wrenching smile, and turns to descend the steps from the porch.

 

And Regina can’t forgive her when Henry’s still suffering, but maybe she can have one more chance to make this right. For Henry. Not for those tentative, vulnerable eyes, and guilt and longing that have plagued her for a decade. “Emma, wait.” 

 

Emma turns, apprehension on her face. Regina rolls her eyes upward, seeking a reprieve and finding none. “I don’t want to kill you,” she says finally, and Emma’s eyes gleam with wetness and hope. Regina exhales for what feels like the first time in days. “Be in my office tomorrow morning, Deputy. And be on time. No more slacking. Deputy Hua has left some very large shoes to fill.”

 

She whirls around on her heel, determined to keep her expression sour until she slams the door. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> help I was suddenly hit with a mysterious malady and I have nothing more written CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP we'll probably be back tomorrow unless both eyeballs fail me :thumbs up emoji:


	6. Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my phone just beeped to tell me that i have to log off for the next day in ten minutes omg, this is super down to the wire. i did edit it as quickly as i could so there might be a misplaced word or two sorry! here you go I'LL SEE YOU TOMORROW.

She’s a ball of anxiety right now, hovering over the porch and then soaring back into the sky and returning a moment later. It’s the flight equivalent of pacing, and it’s all she can do while Regina avoids her gaze in the rec room down below. 

 

She’s with someone new today: a woman dressed down in dark jeans and a plaid shirt that Emma could swear that she has in her own closet. The woman leans comfortably against the wall beside Zelena, wine glass in one hand as she gesticulates with the other, and Regina’s eyes light up with laughter. Emma yearns and knows she’s fucked it up and yearns anyway.

 

She doesn’t have an excuse as Emma Swan, not like Dark Swan does. She still doesn’t have an excuse for crashing the birthday party beyond a wild mix of jealousy– of Dark Swan, of _course_ , only Emma Swan would wind up in a love triangle with herself– and shock. She’d shown up to Regina’s office the morning after she’d been summoned there and had been meek and apologetic and Regina has…accepted that. No forgiveness, but acceptance, at least. 

 

Henry has been a tougher nut to crack. _I know,_ he’d said solemnly when she’d approached him. _You got shot with red kryptonite._ But the ease between them is gone, and he’s kept his distance from her. Regina is probably pleased about _that_ , and Emma accepts in silence the punishments doled out to her.

 

She hasn’t wanted to go to Regina as Dark Swan anymore. The divide between her two identities feels more dishonest now that they’re in conflict, and she’s felt guilty about it since the day Regina had snapped at Emma and kissed Dark Swan. But she can’t stay away forever, and Regina’s anger has cooled enough that friendly overtures feel like fair game.

 

So she waits in silence until Regina finally murmurs something to her guest and steps outside. “Swan,” she says, her voice resigned. “I was expecting you sooner.” 

 

“I was on a shame spiral,” Emma says, hanging her head. It always comes out a bit cockier in her Dark Swan persona, and she sees from the way that Regina rolls her eyes that she’s taken it as such. “I don’t think there are words to apologize for the way I treated you when I was under the influence of the Zookeeper’s dart.” 

 

“That wasn’t you,” Regina says, shaking her head. But her face is still drawn, tension clear beneath the surface. “I’m glad to see you’re back to yourself.” 

 

“The Evil Queen gave me a hand.” Emma tries not to scowl. She’s beginning to resent her supposed rival for being so damned _helpful_ all the time. She only remembers flashes of that night, but she gets the same impression with the Evil Queen as she once had with Regina herself– that same superiority, as though Emma's so far out of her league that she might as well deign to acknowledge her occasionally. “Still, I hurt you.” 

 

She’d dropped Regina onto a car, for fuck’s sake. And Regina isn’t exactly well known for being _forgiving_. Even now, she purses her lips and says, “I should go back inside.” 

 

“I thought you might want another ride.” Emma cringes at the desperation in her voice. “That I could make up for–“ 

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Regina says, and now her gaze is– not angry, exactly, but closed off. “I think our interactions should remain strictly professional.”

 

_Remain_ , she says, as though she’d never kissed Dark Swan while suspended in midair in the moonlight. Emma’s brow furrows. “I thought you understood that that wasn’t me last week.” 

 

Regina’s expression is pained. “I do, Swan. And I understand that it isn’t you when there are rabid dogs all over my city, or giant centipedes destroying priceless artifacts, or a Chernabog terrorizing downtown. The laws of nature– shaky as they are– dictate that where a superhero goes, disaster follows. And that isn’t your fault.” 

 

“But it doesn’t change the fact that these crises are happening,” Emma finishes, dread building in her throat.

 

“I want order back,” Regina murmurs. “I want to live my life without knowing everyone close to me will be in constant danger of death and heartbreak just from your proximity.” 

 

“I’ll _save_ them.” 

 

Regina quirks a grin. “I’m the gay Latina mayor of a city with a superhero. I don’t really want to add _love interest_ into that triad of Probable Casualty.” She rests a hand on her stomach in that nervous gesture Emma recognizes from their brief stint as roommates. “I’m seeing someone.” 

 

“Her?” Emma says blankly, staring through the glass doors to the rec room. Inside, Zelena is talking while the woman listens with rapt attention. “Who is she?” 

 

Regina fidgets. “Her name is Marian. My sister helped her…fake her own death, according to Zelena.” She rolls her eyes, the humor returned to them. “I don’t ask questions with Zelena. But Marian's an environmental lawyer now.” She’s smiling in a genuine way as she gazes back at Marian, and Emma is suddenly nauseous.

 

Because Regina’s been going out for lunch with an environmental lawyer all week, and she’d never let on to her deputy that they’d been _dates_. And this woman knows her family already, manages class and beauty even in the casual clothes Regina seems to dislike so on Emma, and seems perfectly at home here.

 

Emma had never had a chance with Regina. Dark Swan had almost had _something_. And now both of them are out of the picture.

 

* * *

 

And the worst part is that Emma _likes_ Marian once Regina stops hiding her. Regina watches them like a hawk during their first encounter, and Emma bites back a keen desire to posture and instead discovers that Marian is smart, principled, and genuine. “We’re at odds a lot,” she confides in Emma, winking at Regina. “Regina likes big business a little too much to take my side on any of my cases.” 

 

“Robbing the rich to give to the poor is still a crime,” Regina says haughtily, but she’s holding back a smile. “And what right do you have to play god like that?” 

 

And _oh_ , Marian does have one flaw. “Hey, the legal system might be flawed, but I don’t think that _lawyers_ are the issue when we have a superhero problem running rampant through Storybrooke City,” she says, and Emma’s head jerks up, betrayed. 

 

“Superhero problem?” she says, her voice casual.

 

“Speaking of playing god,” Marian says, rolling her eyes. “Do you know how many lawsuits have been filed against that Dark Swan character? She swoops in determined to save a city that doesn’t need her and people lose millions in property damage. The SMNH is never going to be the same, and she’ll never have to face the consequences for her actions. _Supers_.” 

 

“That damage has actually stimulated the economy a bit,” Regina interjects, and Emma looks to her gratefully. “But you’re not wrong.” _Well_. Betrayal, then.

 

“They believe they’re above the law. And the only part of them that could be subject to consequences– their secret identities in the real world– are kept hidden.” Marian shakes her head. “But no one demands those.” 

 

Emma opens her mouth to respond, but Regina speaks up first. “Supers have the right to privacy, just as anyone else does. And they have more enemies than anyone.” She leans back in her chair. “It’s not that I disagree, exactly,” she admits. “But I think it’s a nuanced topic. Particularly when Dark Swan herself isn’t the one causing most of the damage.” 

 

“I think we’d be better off if we found a way to kick them all out of our cities, but no one has that kind of power,” Marian says. “And we’re back to them playing god.” To Emma’s relief, she checks her watch and says, “I have an appointment in a few, but I’ll see you later?” 

 

She pecks Regina on the cheek and smiles at Emma before she ducks out. Emma watches her go, feeling defeated. “So that’s the answer?” she says, sliding into the couch. “We launch all the Supers into space?” 

 

“It’s an answer. It isn’t mine,” Regina says, and her eyes flicker to the window with a wistful tinge to them. “I think Dark Swan is doing good here, even with all the destruction that follows in her wake. It’s those mundane rescues more than any supervillain or natural disaster that really proves her worth.”

 

And because Emma is an _idiot_ and being jealous of herself was better than being jealous of someone else, she says, “You and Dark Swan…” Regina’s eyes darken. “You two are close, aren’t you?” 

 

She spends enough time watching Regina to see the minute drop of her shoulders, the softening at the corners of her eyes. “You’ve been with me at some of our…encounters, right?”

 

“Where else would I be?” Emma says, forcing a laugh. “She trusts you.” 

 

Regina closes her eyes. “She has this…she isn’t jaded or puffed up with her own powers. She’s just earnest and so endearing and genuine that…” Regina swallows. “No, I don’t support launching all the Supers into space,” she says, and Emma’s eyes are on her, stricken, as Regina's eyes are on the blue sky outside City Hall.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s nearing the end of the day. Emma’s packing up her things when Regina says, “Why don’t you come for dinner?” 

 

Emma stares at her. She’s typing busily, eyes on the computer screen, but there’s no sign that she’s on the phone or dictating. “Wait, me?”

 

“Yes, you,” Regina says patiently. “Henry’s birth mother. I know you’ve spoken with him, but he’s remained very…distressed about the whole matter. And you’re the only one who can help with that, so…” She looks up at last, eyebrows raised. “Dinner?” 

 

It’s everything she’s wanted for a long time– another chance with both son and mother, a chance to win back what she’d lost– so of course, she’s immediately disappointed when she enters the house and comes face-to-face with Marian. “Regina said you were coming for dinner,” she says. She’s wearing an apron that says _Kiss The Cook_ and her hair is tied back and she looks like a fixture in the house already. “Henry’s in the rec room.” 

 

Emma’s been reduced to _playdate_ with one well-meaning comment, and she drags her feet and enters the rec room with trepidation. “Hi,” she says.

 

“Hi, Emma,” Henry says, and they stare at each other with equally skittish eyes. Henry clears his throat. “Mom is upstairs.” 

 

“I was looking for you,” she says. 

 

“Oh.” The tension is at unbearable levels, and Henry doesn’t seem interested in easing it. He returns to his video game, and Emma sighs and sits down beside him, picking up the spare console. “You want to play video games with me?” Henry says dubiously.

 

“Sure.” She isn’t very good at them and Henry doesn’t talk to her, but she holds her own and he also doesn’t ask her to leave. It’s an agonizing kind of slow progress.

 

Dinner is equally tense. Henry still won’t talk to her. Zelena is sulking about something. Regina is distracted and has the frustrating habit of glancing out the windows every few moments as though she’s expecting someone to come soaring in. Marian– bless her– is the only one making an effort to carry on a conversation. “So how long have you been working with the sheriff’s office, Emma?” 

 

“Uh. Graham kind of took me under his wing years ago. I had a police record, but he pushed hard for me and spoke to some people and got me hired. That was…seven years ago? Now we run the place.” 

 

“Good for him,” Marian says, smiling politely. “How did you two know each other?” 

 

“I was sent to this facility where they rehabilitate former criminals,” Emma says, which probably isn’t polite company chatter but it gets Regina and Henry to turn and pay attention to the conversation. “He worked there part-time back then.” 

 

Henry says, “Is that where you had me?”

 

“Yeah,” she says, gratified that he’s talking to her.

 

His brow furrows. “So you could go become a deputy sheriff but you couldn’t keep me?” 

 

“Henry!” Regina says sharply. “We’ve spoken about this.”

 

“No, it’s fine–” Emma starts, but Henry cuts in.

 

“No, you’ve told me that it was all for my best chance. But that’s crap,” he says, his face screwing up into a stubborn scowl. “ _She_ didn’t know I’d have you. I could have been put with someone awful and had a horrible life and–“ His lip wobbles. “I _don’t understand_ , Emma,” he says fiercely. “I don’t understand how you could grow up an orphan and try to make me one, too.” 

 

Regina’s face has lost all pallor. “Henry, that’s _enough_.” 

 

Devastation is crawling its way through Emma, helpless defeat that she doesn’t have the words to vocalize. Henry’s right. Henry’s wrong. Henry deserves so much more than this _disaster,_ and–

 

“Do you smell that?” Marian says suddenly. 

 

Emma turns on her, a willing target who isn’t herself or an eleven-year-old boy. “What is it now? Has the stench of Super infected this house, too?” she demands. 

 

“You don’t like Supers?” Zelena says, appalled. “What’s your take on witches? We’re self-taught, you know. No ubermensch connotations there at all.” 

 

“We– Zelena, are _you_ the Evil Queen?” Emma says, distracted.

 

Henry slams his hands on the table. “You’re all so _dumb_.” 

 

“Henry!”

 

Marian clears her throat. “Um. No, I mean it smells like rotten fish in here. Doesn’t anyone else smell it?” 

 

Zelena takes in a long whiff and Emma sniffs. Thankfully, super-smell has never been her forte, because even that single whiff of rotten fish is enough to make her gag. 

 

“I thought I put him in prison,” Marian says, sounding frantic. “He can’t be after me now!” 

 

“Him? Who him?” 

 

“Captain Hook!” And a misty figure begins to take form. He’s waving a hook in place of one of his hands, but as far as supervillains go, he’s…less than impressive. He’s reaching the far end of middle age, Emma guesses, a terrible combover doing nothing to conceal his balding head, and he looks at them with a leer that comes off more as a grimace of vague constipation. “We’ve got to get out of here!” 

 

The stench of rotten fish is growing stronger, and the mist is beginning to thicken. “He’s toxic,” Marian says as they stand. “We inhale too much of that and we’re dead. I sued on behalf of the swamp where he’d been living and–“ 

 

“I’ve got you now, you bitch!” Hook thunders, stalking forward. Regina and Zelena both spring between Marian and the villain. Emma seizes Henry’s arm and pulls him to his feet. 

 

“The basement,” he says frantically, and they all pile down the stairs, slamming the door shut as a blunted hook beats against it. 

 

“The lights are upstairs,” Regina says in the dark. She turns on her phone flashlight, illuminating her worried face. “That door won’t let him through, but we can’t stay down here forever.” 

 

Marian says, still frightened, “I have to go to him. He’s after me. I can’t let you–“

 

“Nonsense,” Zelena retorts, and they all stare at Zelena. “What?” she demands. “I’m not allowed to care?” 

 

“About anyone but Henry? Suspicious,” Regina says, eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?” 

 

Emma leaves them behind, using her super vision to make her way to the dark side of the basement. She doesn’t realize she has someone on her tail until Henry whispers at her elbow, “You’re immune to the fumes, right?” 

 

“Yeah,” she says, blinking down at his determined face. “I just have to find a way upstairs without the rest of them realizing that I’m gone.”

 

“I’ll help you.” There’s defeat in his voice when he mutters, “It’s what a hero would do.” 

 

“Being a hero doesn’t mean that you can't be angry, Henry,” Emma murmurs, and Henry looks away. Upstairs, Captain Hook is still shouting impotent threats, chipping shavings of wood from the door with his hook. Across the room, Zelena’s voice is rising and Marian has a hand on her arm and Regina is watching them both, arms folded. 

 

Emma focuses on Henry. “I know that it’s hard to understand why I did what I did. But I didn’t…I didn’t want to give you up,” she says, speaking as swiftly as she can as the lump in her throat grows larger. “I didn’t want to lose you and of course I didn’t want you to be an orphan. But I didn’t want you to be stuck with me, either. Not when there was a possibility that you could find someone…someone who deserved a kid as great as you.”

 

“ _You_ deserved me,” Henry says stubbornly.

 

“No,” Emma says, blinking tears out of her eyes. “No, I really didn’t.” 

 

Henry hits her over the head with a ping pong paddle. She blinks at him, confused if this is some kind of anger-release thing until he puts his hand on her shoulder and pushes. She sinks to the ground as he shouts, “Hey! Emma got hurt!” 

 

She crumples on the floor, lying as still as she can manage as Regina flies across the room to them. “Did she bang her head?” she demands. “Why did you come over here in the dark? Is it a concussion?” Her fingers are combing through Emma’s hair frantically, searching for bruises, and Emma struggles not to react to her touch.

 

“I think it was just a bump, Mom,” Henry says. “I’ll watch over her.” He crouches down beside Emma, a hand on her back as Regina continues to examine her. “What’s going on with Auntie Z?” 

 

Regina heaves a sigh. “See for yourself.” She shines her flashlight away from them toward the area by the stairs, and Emma cracks one eye open to spot Zelena and Marian in a passionate embrace. 

 

“Ew,” Henry says. Zelena’s hands move to some very explicit places.

 

Regina says, “I’d better go…slow them down. You’re going to watch over Emma?” Her voice is tentative, almost frail, and Emma has to stop herself from reaching out to her.

 

“I promise,” Henry says, his little voice strong, and Regina kisses his forehead and returns to her sister and her presumably soon-to-be ex. Henry whispers, “ _Now_ , Emma,” and Emma runs.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you for your help,” Marian says formally, shaking Emma's gloved hand with grace.

 

“It’s always a pleasure to whack a misogynistic asshole in the head with a live crocodile. All in a day’s work for Dark Swan.” Emma flashes a signature Dark Swan smile at her, feeling rather smug about the save until Marian says, “While I have you, Ms. Dark Swan, I have a few questions from some of my clients.” 

 

“Not now, darling,” Zelena says reprovingly, winding an arm around her waist. “Dark Swan will be back, I’m certain. She’s _infatuated_ with my sister.” 

 

“Really?” Marian says, distracted by this information. “She’s never mentioned.” She tosses Regina a sly glance, and another at Emma. “Isn’t _that_ interesting.” 

 

Regina presses her lips together and says, “I’d better go check on Emma downstairs.” 

 

Henry is still downstairs, presumably looking after Emma’s unconscious body, and Emma hurries to the basement door to cut Regina off. “Wait!”

 

Regina looks at her, eyes weary. “Swan, now isn’t the time.” 

 

“I’m sorry. About Marian,” she says quickly. 

 

Regina arches an eyebrow. “No, you aren’t.” 

 

Emma licks her lips nervously. “I’m not sorry it didn’t work out,” she admits. “I’m sorry you’re unhappy, though.” She waves at the room. “Also about the crocodiles in the kitchen. I didn’t know what to do with them so I just kind of…leashed them? Animal Control should be here soon but–“

 

“Swan,” Regina says, pressing a finger to Emma's lips. Emma falls silent, her stomach bottoming out at the touch. “This wasn’t your fault. I think…it’s a moot point to try to stop these things from happening to me.” She shakes her head, her expression wry. A burst of hesitant optimism flares in Emma’s heart. “I really do want to go check on my deputy,” she says, and Emma bobs her head and blurs away to her spot in the basement.

 

Regina insists on keeping her there for the night. “You banged your head hard enough to pass out,” she says when Emma tries to go. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight.” 

 

Henry hugs her goodnight, his eyes still guarded but his arms clinging to her as though he can’t bear to let her go. She holds him as tightly as she can without breaking bones, new tears springing to her eyes. 

 

“He’s getting there,” Regina murmurs as she offers Emma a glass of cider before she sits down beside her on the couch. Marian and Zelena have vanished for the night– Marian with apologies and Zelena with a fierce sort of joy– and it’s just the two of them now. “Just be honest with him where you can and he’ll come around.” 

 

“And you’re okay with him…coming around?” Emma says, swallowing back the cider. Warmth spreads through her, the tips of her fingers tingling. “I thought you were going to serve me with a restraining order.” 

 

“I’m going to need to come around, too,” Regina says, made honest by her drink. “But I want to trust you, too.” Emma daringly puts a hand on her wrist and Regina turns her palm, stroking Emma’s hand with her thumb.

 

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Emma darting uncertain glances at Regina as she drinks her cider. Regina’s been hostile for days, and if the dam has broken today, it’s with a thin, barely visible trickle of water. Emma won’t press her luck. 

 

She’s startled when Regina says, “And I can’t help but think that your story would have ended differently if I hadn’t run.”

“If you hadn’t–“ She’d thought they could go years without mentioning the elephant in the room; and Regina turns and addresses it without missing a beat. “It was my fault,” she says, shaking her head. “I knew you weren’t ready for…you know. Us.” She’s flushed now, though she can’t say if it’s from the drink or the topic. “I was selfish.” 

 

“I was the older one,” Regina retorts. “I was the one who left. And I wonder…I’ve wondered what would have happened to you if I hadn’t.” 

 

Emma considers lying, pretending that it’s all fine when it _isn’t_ , not when the answer is so devastating to contemplate. But  _I want to trust you, too_ and Emma can’t be honest about everything but she can be this _._ “I would have stayed in college, probably,” she admits. “Maybe still wound up in law enforcement. Maybe we would have stayed together, I don’t know. We were kind of…” 

 

“Explosive?” Regina suggests, and Emma laughs softly.

 

“Yeah. But none of that matters. I would have done it all the same way again if I had to.” She casts her eyes toward the staircase, a silent explanation.

 

“Henry,” Regina whispers.

 

“Henry,” she agrees. Regina’s hand is back on hers, comforting circles drawn into her skin, and she forgets all propriety with the aching pulse of her heart. “I was so in love with you,” she breathes, and Regina’s hand stills. “God, what a mess.”

 

“I was rather enamored with you, too,” Regina admits, and laughs suddenly. “I thought you were infuriating and obnoxious and beautiful and I wanted–“ She stops abruptly.

 

“You wanted…?” Emma says, breathless, and Regina’s face is closer now than she remembers, a little fuzzy but still with the same glowing eyes. Emma leans forward and kisses her. 

 

It’s a careful kiss to the corner of her mouth, even with the spiked cider surging through her. She knows better than to risk recognition even now– especially now.

It’s gentle and tentative and it’s like the later kisses of the night they’d had, the ones with the unspoken question of _will you stay?_ that Regina had answered differently in the heat and comfort of the night. It’s a dream, never more than that, and even now it feels like a dream. Even now it feels like a lie. 

 

And thoughts of her superhero persona are enough to shatter the stillness of the night. Regina might have had feelings for Emma, once upon a time, but a little cider isn’t enough to conceal the obvious. Their time has passed, and Regina’s moved on to Emma’s better half: the half that is larger-than-life, that flies her through the sky and saves lives and doesn’t seem to irritate Regina nearly as much. Regina had been the one to kiss Dark Swan instead of sit unresponsively as Emma kisses her.

 

The real Emma would only be a consolation prize to the woman who wants the superhero. And Emma can’t deny Regina anything.

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, pulling away. “I know you have your…thing with Dark Swan. I’m just a little tipsy.” She puts on a shaky smile. “I should probably go upstairs and sleep off the concussion, right?” 

 

“Emma,” Regina says. Her tone is indecipherable.

 

“I can’t compete with a Super,” Emma says tiredly. Telling Regina the truth now feels like a cheap gimmick, like using Dark Swan to force Regina to love someone she wouldn’t have otherwise. Regina deserves better than that, even if it’s a woman who can never be any more than a mask and a cape. “I just want you to be happy, Regina.” 

 

She doesn’t wait on the couch any longer. Humiliated, wistful, and furious with herself, she hurries upstairs before Regina can say a word.


	7. Pride

“A pride.” Regina stares at them, searching their faces for some indication that this is a terribly-thought-out prank. “Of lions?” 

 

Mulan stares back gravely. Emma amends, “Well, they’re humanoid. Just with…manes and fur and all that. They’re riding motorcycles. The one I spoke to went by _Scar_.” 

 

“A lion pride biker gang is ravaging my city.” 

 

“Psionic lions,” Mulan puts in.

 

“Psionic lion pride biker gang.” Mulan and Emma bob their heads as though this is perfectly commonplace. The question that follows is more uncertain than any question the mayor of Storybrooke City should be asking right now. “Have you been in contact with Dark Swan about this?” 

 

She winces at the way Emma’s back stiffens, at how her eyes flicker away from Regina’s to watch Mulan instead. “Briefly,” Emma says, her cheeks flushed. “She’s on it. They’ve spread everywhere so it’s kind of like picking out individual ants at this point.” 

 

“I see.” Regina attempts to capture her gaze again and fails. “Well, you’ve got enough of a police force in this city– let alone the whole county– to track them down on your own. I don’t care if they have psionic powers. I want them gone.” 

 

“Yes, Madam Mayor,” Mulan says. Emma bobs her head again and nearly runs from the room.

 

“Deputy Swan,” Regina says, seating herself back in front of her computer. Emma freezes. “You’ll remain with me, of course.” 

 

“Right. Yeah.” Emma fiddles with her belt. Regina sighs internally. 

 

The tension in the room has been ramped up even more since the incident with the crocodiles. Emma alternates between uncomfortable silence and desperation to pretend that everything is fine, and Regina concedes that she hasn’t been much better. 

 

Emma had kissed her.

 

Emma had _kissed_ her and then insisted that none of it matters because of Dark Swan. And Regina had let her go, had avoided her gaze at breakfast and avoided the topic from then on. That night, she’d stood outside the guest room, listening to the too-rapid breathing from inside the room, and she’d put her hand on the door and then removed it. That night had been a dream from another life, and all it’s done is wreaked havoc with their efficiency when everything had been _fine_ before.

 

And she looks at Emma and she wonders every time what would have happen if she’d pushed that door open that night; if she’d never left twelve years ago; if they’re doomed to years of regrets and missed chances and nothing more. She looks at Emma and she forgets, for a moment, that there’s another Swan out there who complicates all her choices. 

 

“Emma,” she says. Emma’s eyes are wide and startled and afraid, as though every exchange they have is a potential danger zone. Regina closes her eyes and yearns so acutely that it sticks in her throat as a physical lump. “I thought– I didn’t keep you here to take you out of the action. It’s just…it’s three o’clock and I would…”

 

“Feel more comfortable if Henry has a police escort home?” Emma finishes. She exhales, relaxing a hair at the mention of him. “I think that the mayor’s son is a viable hostage for a lion motorcycle gang,” she says, flashing Regina a hesitant grin. “This doesn’t even count as abuse of power.” 

 

Regina could kiss her. (Not that that’s anything new, but _not the point_.) Instead, she says formally, “Thank you,” and hopes the warmth in her eyes doesn’t betray her.

 

And once Emma’s gone, Regina vanishes in a cloud of violet and reappears in the passenger seat of Mulan’s vehicle. “Deputy Hua,” she says, eyes on the road. 

 

To her credit, Mulan doesn’t crash into the car in front of her. “Madam Mayor!” she yelps, banging her head against the ceiling of her police car. “Maybe call first next time?” 

 

“Maybe,” Regina says agreeably. “So, where are we going? If these are lions, there has to be a leader, right?” She scowls. “Don’t tell me it’s the token male.” 

 

“Two adult males,” Mulan offers. “Emma’s Scar and another one. I didn’t get the impression that Scar was in charge when I spoke to Sarabi.” 

 

“Lovely. Where can we find the other one?” 

 

Mulan’s radio crackles to life and she listens for a moment before she says, “They’re converging near Magnolia Square. If you wanted to make an impression, now would be the time.” 

 

Regina is already gone.

 

The Evil Queen appears in the center of Magnolia Square, dizzy at the bikes that zoom around her at top speed and wheel around, golden-furred creatures craning their necks to stare at the intruder. She moves fast, her hands flashing to action with waves of violet, and she has them all immobilized in moments. “ _This_ was a threat to the city?” she scoffs. 

 

The lioness opposite her is frozen in place, motorbike still thrumming beneath her without moving forward. But she bares her teeth into a growl and says, eyes lighting up with unnatural energy, “Let us go.” 

 

The Evil Queen lets them go, too dazed to absorb what she’s just been forced to do. “Good girl,” the lioness purrs, turning her bike to face the Evil Queen. “Now, you’re going to help us get what we need.” 

 

“What you need,” the Evil Queen repeats dazedly. “What do you need?” 

 

“The key to this city. Its leader,” the lioness says, and she opens her mouth again to make another command. 

 

Something crashes into the Evil Queen and she’s airborne, sailing through the air in very familiar arms. “Time to return the favor, Your Majesty,” Dark Swan murmurs in her ear. “Gotta get you away from that nasty mind control.” 

 

“You!” She can feel her heart thudding with fear at being recognized again, at familiar arms around her waist and a familiar voice murmuring in her ear. “I was doing just fine, thank you,” she says haughtily.

 

“I’m sure.” Dark Swan sounds amused, her hands gripping the Evil Queen steadily. “What is the lion biker gang after, anyway? Any clue? I just saw the glowy green eyes and figured you could use a hand.” 

 

“The mayor,” the Evil Queen says, and she can feel Dark Swan’s grip go lax. “They’re after the mayor.” 

 

She vanishes as Dark Swan drops her, her magic working just fast enough that Regina Mills is standing by the window of her office as Dark Swan blasts through it and crashes into her.

 

“I didn’t see you!” Dark Swan says, chagrined as Regina crumples onto the floor. “Are you okay?” She’s on her knees beside Regina in an instant, brushing hair out of Regina’s eyes to inspect her face.

 

“I’m fine,” Regina assures her, a peace settling over her at Dark Swan’s presence. There’s something otherworldly about her in these moments, when they’re alone together and it’s quiet and Regina knows at once that there’s nothing to fear. That somehow, they’re going to win again. “How are you?” 

 

“I saved the Evil Queen for once,” Dark Swan says, grinning at her. “I was three blocks away and I heard the lions and I bailed her out of there before they could order her to– You’re in danger!” she remembers, smacking a hand to her face. “The lions are after you. I’m here to protect you.” 

 

“You should be fighting them off. Are you susceptible to their psionic abilities?” Regina asks, suddenly concerned about it. If the lions can control the Evil Queen with only a glance, she can’t imagine what kind of harm they could order a Super to do. 

 

“I don’t think so. Different brain waves,” Dark Swan says, waving at her head. “Well. If I’m not human. I’m not really clear on where my powers came from or why, you know?” She steps backward out through the open window, hovering in midair. “I just know that I’ve always been able to do this.” 

 

Her lips are pressed together, quivering ever so slightly, and Regina aches at the loss and uncertainty she can read on Dark Swan’s face. “Your humanity isn’t in question,” she murmurs, rising to walk to the window. “Regardless of what planet you’re from. You’re one of us.” 

 

Dark Swan’s eyes bore into her, telling a story that Regina can’t read until she clears her throat and says, “Would you…would you want to grab dinner sometime? After this crisis is over, I mean. I know that you said you didn’t want me to put a target on your back, but–“ 

 

Regina’s fingers close around the windowsill and squeeze until her knuckles turn white. “Are you asking me out?” she asks, struggling to keep her voice even. In her own office– in the place where she works every day with another woman who makes her _yearn_ –

 

“No pressure,” Dark Swan says swiftly, and Regina sees Emma’s face superimposed over hers for a moment, sees all the ways that they’re just the same and still so different. “Nothing has to change if you say no. It’s not like I’m going to leave you to the lions if you reject me…oh, god, that sounds like a threat, doesn’t it? I’m not threatening you! I’m just–“ 

 

She stammers and stumbles and Regina takes pity on her and says, “I know, dear.” She can’t mute the fondness in her voice; and when Dark Swan ducks her head and won’t look at her, she reaches out to cup the superhero's cheek in her hand. “You really do mean very much to me, Swan.” 

 

Dark Swan’s eyes flicker up to her, defeated. “There’s a but. It’s…I promise you,” she says fiercely. “I promise that if you or anyone you love ever suffers because you’re connected to me– I’ll end them. I’d rather die than see you hurt because I care about you.” 

 

“I know,” Regina whispers. “It’s not that.” She turns away from the window, stares at the couch where Emma likes to perch and make snide comments after Regina’s meetings. “There’s someone else. I’m…I’m in love with someone else,” she admits, and relief floods her at the admission.

 

_Emma_. Sweet, obnoxious, wonderful, irreplaceable Emma, whom she’d left twelve years ago with a piece of her heart that she’d only recovered now. She could spend the next dozen years being taken to every possible height with Dark Swan and it would never fill that aching pit within her, not fully. Not as easily as Emma Swan can just... tossing pencils at the ceiling and roundly mocking her irritation at it. Not as easily as Henry and Emma can by making faces in the window of her office while she’s struggling to negotiate an impossible agreement. Not like Emmawith only her presence, no matter how painful it’s been lately.

 

“I’m sorry,” Regina murmurs again, and Dark Swan says, “It’s Marian, isn’t it?” with such a note of devastation in her voice that Regina whirls around.

 

“No,” Regina says. She can feel the smile of realization threatening to break through in her face, in her voice, in the curve of her lips. “No, it’s my…it’s Deputy Swan.” 

 

Dark Swan’s eyes round in surprise. “Oh,” she says, in the exact same tone as she had on the night of Henry’s birthday, all those weeks again. “Her?” 

 

Regina’s hackles rise at the disbelief in Dark Swan’s tone. “Yes, _her_. Do you have a problem with that?” Her phone is ringing and she snatches it up, turning sharply away from Dark Swan’s furrowed brow. As though it’s impossible to conceive that there’s any chance of a relationship between Regina and Emma. As though the very idea is absurd. 

 

“What?” she snaps into the phone, her irritation rising with every moment Dark Swan stares at her openmouthed. 

 

“Mom?” Henry says shakily, and Regina softens, instantly ashamed.

 

“Hello, sweetheart,” she says, exhaling. “Is everything all right? Did Emma get you home okay?” 

 

“Yeah. I’m in my room.” He hesitates. “There’s just…there's some weird people outside. I don’t think it’s a big deal. They’re just kind of banging on the front door and Auntie Z isn’t here and I thought I’d just let you know…” She can hear the sound of him sucking on his lip and releasing it, an old nervous habit he’s never shaken.

 

“Weird people how?” Regina asks, her fingers tightening on the phone. Dark Swan is back inside, hovering behind her as she listens in to the conversation. “Henry, how do they look?”

 

“Like…big cats?” he says. There’s a whoosh of energy behind Regina. When she twists around, Dark Swan is gone. 

 

They’d both miscalculated. If the pride had been after the mayor, they wouldn’t go after her at City Hall– not when her house is so exposed and there are no security personnel there. And now Henry is home and–

 

_Where the hell is Emma?_

 

She doesn’t bother with elaborate costumes or supervillain personas when she waves her hand and teleports down the block from her house. Panic thrums through her, harsh and uncontrollable, and she takes off along the sidewalk, running wildly toward her house, when Dark Swan bursts from Henry’s window.

 

Henry has his arms around her neck, face flushed with excitement as she hovers and drops to kick one of the lions off her bike and then rises again. She’s shouting something up to him and he’s laughing, comfortable with her like she isn’t a stranger to him.

 

Which is odd enough that Regina pauses for a moment, blinking up at them. It’s always been odd that Henry hasn’t shown much interest in meeting his superhero idol. It’s always been odd that Regina herself had offered it and he’d shrugged it off. And it’s odd how Dark Swan grins up at him, that smile so open and full of _love–_ love for Henry, affection beyond anything Dark Swan has ever shown for anyone–

 

Regina knows that smile, knows those eyes that glitter with unbridled relief every time Henry beams at the other woman. Regina might have overlooked quite a bit about Dark Swan in the past, but there’s no mistaking that special smile that one person in the world reserves for Regina’s son.

 

It can’t be. It can’t possibly be… “Emma?” Regina whispers, and Dark Swan raises her face from the lions to meet her eyes.

 

And now that she’s accepted the idea, it’s so obvious that she can’t believe she’s never seen it before. Those are Emma’s eyes, gazing down at her in sudden horror. That’s Emma’s body– one she’s kept hidden under non-regulation jackets and terrible flannel and those tasteful turtlenecks. That’s Emma’s smile twisting into a frown, into fear and worry as Henry clings to her. 

 

“Emma,” she says again, and she laughs and laughs as the lions spot her–

 

She’d fallen in love with Emma, piece by piece by piece without seeing the finished puzzle, and now it’s been revealed in all its glory. This is Emma– hapless and heroic and so full of secrets and love and insecurities that Regina wants to shake her and kiss her at once. This is Emma, made unmistakable by her love for a little boy whose future she’d entrusted to Regina.

 

The lions are approaching, eyes gleaming emerald and the lead male with a scar marring his left eye, and Regina can barely spare them a glance. Emma is diving toward her, ready to stand between Regina and the biker pride, and Regina says, “No, don’t,” just as there’s a roar from behind her.

 

“Scar! Zira!” snarls another male voice, and Regina turns to see another segment of the pride riding toward her. _No_ , she realizes suddenly, clarity prevailing in all situations. _Not another segment_.

 

“Scar!” the other lion growls again, and the lioness and younger male behind him snarl as they roar past him to circle the other pride. “What is this? Did you think you could take this city, too?” 

 

Another lioness pauses beside Regina and Emma and Henry. “We’re sorry about the confusion. We came here searching for…him,” she says, nodding to the younger male. “Scar saw the trip as an opportunity that the pride does not condone. Sarabi and Mufasa will shut it down. You’d better go inside.”

 

Regina nods, very dazed, and Emma puts a hand on her back and guides her back inside.

 

* * *

 

She tugs out a lasagna from the freezer, shakes out a salad from the fridge, and moves through the kitchen as though she’s sleepwalking while Emma lingers against the wall, watching. She waits until dinner is in the oven before she rounds on her masked guest. “Dark _Swan_?” she demands, shaking her head. “ _That_ was your big attempt at keeping your identity a secret?” 

 

“I didn’t pick the name,” Emma protests. “It just worked out that way.” 

 

“You were a Super all along?” Regina says, stabbing a finger at her arm. “What about that time we were locked out of our apartment in ten-degree weather? I didn’t have a coat!” 

 

“I gave you mine!” Emma says. “You looked really–“

 

“Hideous–“ 

 

“Cute.” There’s a guilty look in her eye, though, as though it had all been an excuse to infuriate a younger and more rage-susceptible Regina.

 

“I did not look _cute_ ,” Regina snaps, stalking across the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cider. “And what about that time when that moth demon showed up on campus and dissolved my favorite sweater? _While I was wearing it_?” 

 

“Um.” Emma says, licking her lips. “I didn’t want to use my powers without being committed to the cause.” 

 

“So you were instead committed to the cause of leaving me topless.” The guilty look in Emma’s eyes fades into nostalgia. Regina glares at her. “I can’t believe you.” 

 

“Right back at you,” says Emma, and with nothing more than a blur of movement, she’s standing in front of Regina.

 

“That’s _rude_ –“

 

Emma tugs her mask off at last, blue-green eyes blinking owlishly at Regina as though she’s stepping out from the pitch-black night into sunshine. “You’re in love with me?” 

 

_Oh_. Regina stops speaking, her cheeks hot. Emma takes a step forward and hesitates. “Or was that just you giving Dark Swan the brushoff–“

 

Regina kisses her, tender and sweet and with enough force behind it that Emma falls silent and kisses her back, a long leg sliding between Regina’s and a strong hand holding her close. “Okay,” Emma breathes into her kiss. “Okay, good.” 

 

* * *

 

“There’s something I have to show you,” Regina says a few weeks later. 

 

She's had plenty of reasons to hold off on telling Emma her one last secret. For one, there had been the slime monster that had nearly swallowed up half the city the day after the lion pride had reenacted West Side Story on her block. Dark Swan had needed help with that mess and explaining Regina’s presence there without an alias would have just slowed her down. After that, Emma had desperately needed a shower and Emma in a towel in her bedroom had gone…well. They hadn’t thought much about the Evil Queen after that.

 

Then there had been those two menaces who had scrambled into her city and known her secret. They'd insisted that they’d wanted to write a television show about Regina and her alter ego.  _We’re big fans of the idea of a modern fairytale,_ one had said. _We’d love you to be the model for our antihero_. They’d come to her office one day to harangue her and Emma had put a stop to their plans by striding in and kissing Regina in front of them. They’d made a hasty retreat, mumbling uncomplimentary comments about lesbians, and Regina hadn’t wanted _that_ to be the basis of her big reveal.

 

Mother’s brief stint in Storybrooke terrorizing her daughters had left Emma so protective that Regina hadn’t had the heart to admit that she could protect herself just fine; and at that point, Regina had held off telling Emma for so long that it had seemed like more trouble than it was worth to admit the truth now. Plus, it’s been kind of fun, flirting with Emma as the Evil Queen and watching her pupils dilate with desire and panic. 

 

“I have a girlfriend!” she’d blurted out a few nights ago, and Regina had marveled at how she still hasn’t recognized her. The laws that govern this world are occasionally nonsensical, and no less so when they benefit Regina. “I love my girlfriend. A lot.” 

 

She needs only to think back to Emma’s stunts while Regina hadn’t recognized her to get over her own misgivings at toying with Emma. “You can’t tell me that you aren’t attracted to me,” she’d said coyly, moving in close. Emma flutters backward as though she’d been stung. “What does your girlfriend have that I don’t?” 

 

“Uh.” Emma had said, looking absolutely petrified of her. And then she’d rattled off a list of qualities that Regina is fairly certain she doesn’t have, and then a few she definitely does. “…badass mayor who would probably murder you and me just for this conversation, regardless of what superpowers we might have.” 

 

And really, who is she to argue with that very factual assessment? 

 

The only deterrent she’d had until now is that Henry, at least, deserves to know before Emma does. But he’d had a good day with Emma (the bad ones end with both of them in tears, usually Emma more than Henry, and Regina navigates the space between them until Emma arrives at her front door, white-faced, and speaks to Henry in low tones until he nods reluctantly), and he’d turned to her in the car and said, “So, when are you going to tell her?” 

 

She’d stared at him, taken aback, and he’d shrugged. “Are we still pretending you’re any better at secret identities than she is? Mom, you look _exactly_ the same.” And Henry hasn’t shown any latent superpowers yet, neither genetic nor inherited from her, but she’s beginning to think that his Bullshit Meter might be something to look into.

 

So here she is, waiting in Emma’s bedroom in full Evil Queen regalia as Emma cleans up in the living room. She can hear Emma’s footsteps nearing, and she sits on the bed and folds one leg over the other, preparing a wicked smirk.

 

“What did you want to show me– oh _holymotherofgod_ ,” Emma says, her eyes wide, and then she leaps forward and jumps on Regina with enough force to flatten several elephants.

 

Regina throws up a shield just in time, kissing Emma back and letting her tear at one of Aurora’s carefully crafted masterpieces. (They never had had that bloody confrontation she’d been so looking forward to; so really, they owe her one.) Supers are insatiable, Regina’s learned quickly, and it’s an exhilarating, exhausting, fulfilling experience just to keep up. (She’s cut an early morning workout from her daily routine since Emma. Emma has been angling to undo all her hard work by putting that time toward breakfast dates at Dunkin’ Donuts. Regina had bought her a gym membership in response.)

 

Later that night, drenched in sweat and draped over Emma, Regina admits, “I didn’t know how you’d take it.” 

 

Emma blinks sleepily at her. “Take what? That thing you did with my–?“ 

 

“Not that thing,” Regina says hastily.

 

“Oh. The getup.” Emma turns a bit pink. “I’m glad you were so cool about the whole weird-crush-on-the-Evil-Queen thing. Not just anyone would dress up like her girlfriend’s arch-nemesis in bed. Let me tell you, I knew this chick in the tourism office who–“

 

“Emma,” Regina says slowly. Being a genre-aware supervillain is beginning to grate. “That wasn’t a sex outfit. That was me. Regina Mills. I’m the Evil Queen.”

 

“You _what?_ ” 

 

And that’s how they wind up being called in for questioning, shamefaced in front of a long-suffering Mulan, after the mysterious sonic boom that had rocked Storybrooke City in the early morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legit 95% my knowledge of superheroes is from Smallville and Supergirl and that one time I walked into the Smithsonian with my elderly grandparents looking for a planetarium show and accidentally wound up in a Dark Knight IMAX instead, so really, thank you for tolerating all probable inaccuracies in this fic and whatever other messiness comes from seven chapters in seven days. It's been real, y'all. <3


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